Falling Apart
by Autumn Dae
Summary: The silence of the building echoed the pain he felt inside, screaming at him to get up, to do something, to stop wallowing and to change the facts. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She wasn’t supposed to die. Tiva. NOW FINISHED.
1. And Now It's Gone

**A/N: Hey guys, welcome to my new fic, **_**Falling Apart**_**. It's inspired by the song of the same name by Matt Nathanson, who sang **_**All We Are**_**, which was featured in episode 5.2, "Family", and inspired my last fic of the same name as well.**

**I really like this story. I'm still writing it, so I'm not sure where it's going yet, so take this chance to tell me what you'd like to see—a lot of emotion and angst, or more action and development? I'm trying to do a nice balance of both, so I guess we'll see how it pans out. Nonetheless, share wit me what you'd like to see—some firefights? Bombs? Honestly, just share. I'd love to make this a fabulous story but I'll need your help, so chip in—I'll take anything you've got.**

**Now, I know this fic is somewhat similar to **_**All We Are**_**, only reversed, but let me just tell you: it's going to be different. The beginning may seem very much the same, but a lot is going to be different, so stick with me, ok?**

**I got the major ideas for this plot when I was trying to fall sleep the night I began it—I had to find paper and a pen and a light and my glasses (I usually wear contacts) and wrote it all in the dark. That's right, my notes were written looooong past my bedtime and in the dark. So I'm hoping it pays off.**

**Oh, and just so you know, I'm also planning on posting a second story very soon. I usually don't like to do 2 at once, but I think this could be a good thing for me and for you. Want a hint? Listen to Fall for You and then Maybe by Secondhand Serenade.**

**Alright, have a fabulous day. See you soon! Don't forget to review.**

As the old saying goes, you never know what you have until it's gone.

Tony never intended to learn. He thought he would never have to know. He thought they had all the time in the world. That she would be there forever.

How wrong he was.

So tonight he stood alone, in the dark of the squadroom. The silence of the building echoed the pain he felt inside, screaming at him to get up, to do something, to stop wallowing and to change the facts.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She wasn't supposed to die.

_It had been a relatively calm morning. She was just supposed to check out Petty Officer Sara Holt's house after he had failed to report to court that day. She had been a witness in a fraud and grand theft case, dealing with weapons shipments that the team had been working on for three weeks when one of the missing weapons was used in the murder of Petty Officer Eric Jacobson, a colleague of Holt's. It was supposed to be simple. She was just supposed to pick Holt up and bring her to NCIS headquarters so Gibbs could lash out at her in anger for causing the prosecution major… well, issues._

_All morning Tony had had this unexplainable feeling in his gut. He felt uneasy about the whole ordeal. He had come into work looking over his shoulder after speeding down the highway in a way that much resembled Ziva or Gibbs' driving. He couldn't shake this fog. And yet the beltway birds still sang, the Jamaican coffee still brewed, and the busy elevator still sounded._

_Everything seemed normal when he got in that morning. Everything was quiet. McGee sat at his computer, typing away. Ziva turned her knife around in her fingers, eyes intent upon the sharp blade. Gibbs was out for coffee. Everything was fine. _

"_Petty Officer Holt didn't show up for her testimony this morning. Not answering her phone,"_

"_Maybe she slept through her alarm," Tony suggested. "Musta forgot,"_

"_Who would forget that they're a key witness in a major case?" McGee said._

"_I need someone to pick her up," Gibbs said, sitting down at his desk._

"_Ziva will do it!" Tony said loudly, pointing to her._

"_DiNozzo, you go," Gibbs said, not looking up._

"_Ah, come on, Boss, I was up really late and--" He began to complain._

"_Hot date?" Ziva said slyly, but her eyes spoke something else._

"_No," Tony corrected her. "I watched the Titanic. It's a long one,"_

"_Most cruise liners are," She said, missing the point. Ziva stood. She walked out in front of her desk, knife still in her hand. "I will go," she volunteered before sending a smirk Tony's way. "I have been sitting at my desk far too long this morning," She explained as Gibbs stared at her strangely. Finally, he nodded, and she absentmindedly set it on Tony's desk. She grabbed her things and headed toward the elevator. "I'll be back," She called cheerily, happy to get out of the building. Ziva had never been one for desk work, much less being indoors sat all. She needed to be out. Active. It was why she was so good in the field and hated stakeouts with such vehemence._

_Holt lived on base. The drive was only half-an-hour, fifteen minutes if Ziva was driving. She should have been back within the hour. But two hours later, Tony was growing nervous, and so was the rest of the team._

"_Have you called her?" Gibbs finally asked after they had run out of reasons she would be gone for so long._

"_I called four times. No answer," Tony said. "It wasn't off though. Rang a whole bunch before it went to voicemail,"_

"_Can you run a trace?" Gibbs asked McGee._

"_Yeah, give me a minute," He said, typing furiously. A map of the United States came onto the screen, narrowing quickly into Virginia. "She's at Holt's house,"_

"_Maybe they're having a heart to heart?" Tony suggested hopefully._

_Gibbs gave a silent sigh. "Tony, McGee. Get the car. We're going to Holt's," He said._

_Tony swallowed. This couldn't be happening. Ziva was fine. She had to be._

_Thirteen minutes later, they were driving down Holt's street. They jolted to a stop in the middle of the street, and all three men all but flew out of the car. The car Ziva had taken was sitting in the driveway, the driver's door open. Tony's heart skipped a beat as they ran to it, finding the one thing they had never hoped to see._

_It wasn't Ziva._

_It was her badge._

_Drenched in blood._

_Tony glanced inside the car. Ziva's cell phone was on the driver's seat. Gibbs motioned to Tony and McGee that he was going around the back. They nodded in agreement and headed for the front door._

_McGee reached the doorknob gently, but the door flew open, unlocked. They made their way through to the front room. Petty Officer Holt was on the ground, lying in a pool of her own blood. They cleared the front rooms and Gibbs met them in the front room, having cleared the back rooms._

"_Any sign of her?" McGee said._

_Gibbs shook his head. "No," He said simply._

_Tony didn't hear anything after that. He looked around, feeling lost. He didn't know what to do, where to go. It hadn't quite hit him. He looked out the open front door, staring down the driveway. The blood was dripping down the gentle slope of the concrete, shining in the bright sunlight, taunting him. It was an incredible amount. Marks near the edge of the pool indicated that whoever's blood it was had been dragged out of it, likely into another badge gleamed and shone a single reflective ray into his eyes, followed by an even brighter rage of light as the car beside the blood exploded into flames._

So there he stood by the window, awaiting the results of the DNA test Abby had run from the sample they had brought back from the scene and of any evidence that was left in the ashes of the skeleton that used to be a car. McGee was down with Abby, trying to console her and keep her sane as she did her work. Gibbs was out getting coffee. The silence of the squadroom echoed the aches of his sorrow, reminding him of what he was missing, what he had lost.

And he was alone. Just like the day he and Ziva had first met. He looked down and smiled, remembering their first conversation. He didn't know how she did it, but she knew exactly how to get him. She could read him like no one else could, and over time, he got just as good at reading her. They found a way to communicate without words. They bantered and teased and joked. And it was comfortable. It was amazing.

And now he'd never have that again.

It was all his fault.

The elevator sounded with a _ding!_ He didn't look to see who entered the room. All he could think of was another of his lost chances.

"_I'm tired of pretending." Tony said, looking her straight in the eye. He was angry with Gibbs, with Vance, with SecNav, with the whole freakin' government. Lies just seemed to flow freely from these men's mouths, and they didn't care. They didn't care that they were using their people to accomplish their own personal agendas. They didn't care if anyone got hurt. It was all about power and gaining more of it. And deep down inside, he felt the same way about something else. But he couldn't deal with that now. It wasn't the right time or place._

"_So am I." She answered honestly. Her tone was soft, regretful. Was she talking about the same thing he was? _No,_ his heart answered. There it was. He had a chance. _

_He didn't take it._

"DiNozzo," A quiet but authoritative voice called.

Tony didn't move from the window, didn't look to his boss who stood only five feet from him. He could only stare out the window, watching the nation's capitol lit by the city lights. Ziva had loved this view.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs called again. His voice was softer this time. He was hurting. It was obvious in his eyes, but he didn't let on. Not with his words.

"Yeah," Tony said, unable to say anything else. What else could he say? That he was sorry? That he shouldn't have complained? That he shouldn't have let his partner do his dirty work? That he should be the one dead? All of those seemed to be true, but he couldn't bring himself to say any of it. He knew that if he did, he might break.

Gibbs seemed to feel the same way. He didn't say anything. He simply stared at his senior agent. Finally after a long moment, he spoke. "I'm sorry,"

Tony just stared back, despite the immense weight those rare words carried. His moistened eyes reflected the lights below. He blinked a few times before turning away, his arms folded. There was nothing he could say.

"The Israeli Embassy took the investigation," He said slowly. Tony turned back to Gibbs, his eyes now wild and raging. "They don't think there's reason to connect Holt to Ziva. Based on Ducky's preliminary findings…"

"I know. Holt was dead at least four hours before Ziva even left her apartment," He said, his voice low with frustration.

"Vance has given Holt's case to Agent Balboa's team,"

Tony nodded, not caring. Ziva wasn't anywhere to be found, but with such an extreme amount of blood loss, he knew there was only one other possibility, and he refused to believe it.

"She isn't dead, Boss,"

"Tony," Gibbs said. He rarely called him by his first name. He must have pitied the poor agent. He had even apologized.

"No, Boss. She has to be alive," He said taking a step forward.

"No body. No connection--"

"She works for NCIS! This should be our case!"

"According to Vance, she's always worked for Mossad,"

"First and foremost," A voice behind them said.

Tony turned to see Vance. "Sir," He said, his eyes rebellious as his tone.

"Your team is too involved to investigate,"

"We investigated Kate's death," Tony said.

"And look where that got you," He said.

"It was Kate's death that brought Ziva to us," Tony replied, his voice raising a decibel.

"I've already made my decision. Mossad will have your full cooperation. You will not investigate," He ordered. He gave each agent a _look_ before walking away.

Tony turned to Gibbs. "This isn't fair," He said with certainty.

Gibbs looked at him. "I know," He said, walking away. "I know."

Tony sat in his apartment silently. No movie played. No cans of beer were open, much less any other kind of alcohol. He couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't even make himself stand up from the couch he sat on.

The hours had been ticking by, creeping slowly about. Memories haunted him. Memories of her. Of him. Of everything they had. Memories of paper-ball wars and finding the most possible foods to eat for lunch. Of the way she loved her Berry Mango Madness and memories of Roy, the dead man walking. He remembered the way she would smile at him when she saw him being mischevious—lips pursed sweetly, looking up through her lashes, dark brown eyes twinkling. She knew what she was doing, and yet, she never saw what it did to him. The shock he felt when she told him her favorite movie was _The Sound of Music_. He remembered the day they were at the hotel in Los Angeles and all she wanted to do was read her book, but he convinced her to come with him to go sight-seeing. He remembered that day so clearly. He smiled, remembering how she looked in that bikini. He still had those pictures. He kept them up on his room on the _USS Reagan_ and _USS Seahawk_. But those pictures weren't there to remind him of how hot she was, or how he missed seeing a beautiful woman aboard a ship of 5,000 men, as true as both statements were. They were there to remind him of how much he loved her.

It wasn't a thing hard to forget. No one ever forgets that. But he was scared. He didn't want to forget her face. Her eyes. Her sly smile that made him go crazy, that made him love her even more. Tony sighed as remembered that summer. He tried to call. He would get so close, then give up. She had probably found someone else. Someone better. She deserved better than him anyway. Someone who wasn't a failure in everything he did.

And her life ended because of it.

Because he was a failure.

He killed her.

His co-worker.

His partner.

His best friend.

The woman he loved.


	2. And So We Fail

**A/N: Hey! Okay, so I completely forgot to add the break lines in on the first chapter. It should be fixed and **_**much**_** easier to read now. Thanks for stickin' through it anyway!**

**So thanks for the lovely reviews for the first chapter—it was a nice way to start it off.**

**I know today's chapter is pretty short (sorry!) but it's because the next chapter really needs to be on its own, so it's all for the best, ok?**

**Happy Independence Day! I love this holiday—it's my favorite after Christmas and my birthday (Which is August 11 if anyone cares, and yes, it is nice not to have school on my birthday, so yes, it is a holiday for me, lol.) I got kind of emotional at the parade my town holds every year when various servicemen walked by, representing each branch of the military. We had a lot of Marines this year—my sister and I both thought of when Gibbs left in Season 3 and said, "Semper fi." One of the trucks had that phrase on it and I had this terrible urge to say, "Oorah!" I come from a line of police men, military men, and patriotic hearts so it tends to get to me.**

**Thanks for sticking through my ramble.**

**I love you for it. Really, I do.**

**Okay, here we go.**

* * *

Tony arrived at work the next morning an hour before even Gibbs got in. Six o'clock, on the dot. He sat at his desk, finishing paperwork from the previous day's events. No one had expected to see him that day. Not even the security guards he met every day in the lobby. As he walked away he could feel their eyes on his back, all whispering the same thing: _That poor boy._ He didn't want their pity. He knew what they were thinking. And they were right.

He failed her.

He looked up from his desk to the one across from him. He half-expected to find her sitting there, working away diligently as she did. He half-expected to turn his head and find her behind him, looking over his shoulder at his screen. He half-expected to throw a ball of paper at her head or launch a spitball into her hair. He half-expected her to tell him about her latest driving accident—there had been three in the first year she worked with him, and countless more since. He half-expected her to stroll in at any moment, backpack casually slung over her shoulder.

She didn't.

The ache in his heart had grown with the burden of the guilt he knew he deserved.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he walked up to Tony's desk.

Tony slowly looked up at Gibbs, removing his gaze from the empty desk before him. "Boss,"

"I do not need to see you here today," He said quietly.

"I need to be here," He said. "Mossad might call with some questions,"

Gibbs shook his head as he sat down at his desk, coffee cup at ready. "I don't think they will, DiNozzo,"

"Well if they don't I will. We were the last ones to see her," He said, not finishing his sentence with the word "alive."

"McGee's taking the week off. You should too," He suggested, ignoring the previous comment.

"I'm fine," He lied. He knew Gibbs could see right through it, but he didn't care. "And shouldn't you be working on your boat and a bottle of bourbon?" He added snidely.

Gibbs put a finger on a stack of files. "Paperwork,"

"I'm sure Vance would understand,"

Gibbs sighed. He hadn't wanted this for Tony. He didn't want Tony to become like him, coming to work so early to avoid facing himself. He wasn't supposed to have the same burdens buried deep inside. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Gibbs looked at Tony, their eyes saying the things that words cannot express. "Okay," He agreed.

And so there they sat, two men both wounded by their pasts and by the present lives in which they suffered.

* * *

Tony stormed into the elevator, angering bubbling with volcanic ash inside of him. _I'm tired of pretending._ He flipped the emergency off switch. Vance had just tried talking him into taking a week or two of bereavement time. Why did everyone think he was so fragile? So vulnerable? He was fine. He was strong, strong as he'd always been. He was a DiNozzo man. He was tough. _DiNozzo men don't cry_. And with that a tear fell.

He slid down the silvery wall of the elevator, his head falling down into his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. He began to cry. He cried tears of anger and hurt and regret and guilt, but mostly because he missed her. Oh, how he missed her. He missed how she messed up her idioms and he missed how she would so often threaten to hurt him, even kill him. _I will kill you eighteen different ways with this paperclip!_ He missed her eyes and her smile and her heart. He missed her touch. He missed her laughter.

He felt as if his world was crashing down on him. A physical pain had developed inside the pit of his stomach. It was the same pain that he had felt last summer, when Jenny died, and when he was separated from the team. _You could have called_.

He failed her. He failed her so many times.

How could he have done this to her?

He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and looked around. _I'm tired of pretending_. He shut his eyes as he tried to shut out the memory that haunted his mind.


	3. And I Am At Fault

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the awesome reviews yesterday. You make me smile.**

**Today's chapter gives you a look at how Tony's dealing with Ziva's death. This is where the story becomes its own, though the major developments haven't arrived yet, and those will really pull it into this whole new direction, one I think you guys will like.**

**Let me know what you think and what you'd like to see. Soon you'll see some action, so hang in there, but it'll get worse before it gets better, for Tony anyway.**

**Autumn**

**Oh, Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and won't and haven't claimed to at any time in the past or future of this story. Not in the next chapter or the fifteenth chapter in the epilogue. That should cover it. Okay, and for the heck of it, even though it's completely unnecessary now, no copyright infringement intended. **

* * *

Tony continued coming to work every day at six o'clock, often earlier, and leaving later than even Gibbs. He was given a stack of cold cases to go through, and he did so diligently, only taking time out of his day to go retrieve more coffee for Gibbs and himself.

He didn't notice, but Gibbs would watch Tony from his desk. Tony's eyes would drift off every couple of hours, his eyes distant and vacant and serious. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles, haunted and sad. He wanted to say something, to do something, but for the first time, he couldn't think of anything.

"It's not going to get better, is it?" Tony spoke for the first time in a week. He looked so vulnerable, sitting there alone.

Gibbs sighed quietly. "No, it isn't," He said as his mind floated to Shannon and Kelly.

Tony nodded in understanding. "Figures," He said softly, guilt overwhelming him. "I don't know how you do it, Boss,"

"Took me seventeen years,"

"Great," Tony said sarcastically. "Wasn't like this when Kate died. Or Paula died. Or Jeanne left. Or Jenny died," He snorted. "I've got quite the track record,"

"It'll get worse," Gibbs said.

"Wow. You're quite the motivational speaker. You should consider going into that line of work. Bet it pays a heck of a lot better than this," He said, an edge of sarcasm in his voice. But Gibbs didn't move, didn't speak. That could wait. Tony needed to take his mind of this. He'd deal with his crap later. "Don't know why I picked this job anyway. Pay sucks. I get to spend my days watching people dead. Shooting at suspects. Getting my best friends killed. It's a great gig," He continued.

Gibbs stood and made his way over to Tony. "That's what this is about, then? You think it's your fault?"

Tony looked up. "Isn't it? I made her go. Decided to complain. And that got her killed,"

"Do you even hear yourself, DiNozzo? Complaining never got a person killed,"

"Yeah, right," He rolled his eyes a little.

"This. Is. Not. Your. Fault," Gibbs said, his eyes of steel boring into Tony.

"Tell that to her!" He said, getting up.

"You honestly think she'd blame you for this? She practically volunteered!"

"She wouldn't have had to if I hadn't been so immature about it,"

"What's immature is refusing help. Refusing to deal with yourself. Letting yourself become a wreck. Pitying yourself,"

"I'm _fine_,"

"Geeze, DiNozzo. One second you're blaming herself for her death and the next your _fine_? You sound more bipolar to me than anything!" Tony looked away, hating that his boss was right. "You take the week. You do not come to work for seven more days. Understood?"

"Is this an order?" Tony asked, his voice monotone.

"Yes, it is," Gibbs, taking an authoritative step forward.

"If Mossad calls--"

"They know where to reach you, trust me," Gibbs said.

Tony sighed, then gave in. He gathered his things and drove himself to his favorite bar.

He ordered some Scotch, but when it arrived in front of him, he couldn't pull himself to drink it. All he could do was think of when Ziva had found him in autopsy, drinking the same beverage.

"_You have not listened to anything I have said," For the past three days she had been trying and failing to convince him that it wasn't his fault. That he wasn't to blame for Jenny's death. She was wrong._

"_Well it's only been three years, I'm a slow learner,"_

"_And a slow healer," She said, sitting down on the edge of Ducky's desk. She could always read him with such ease, seeing more of him than he saw of himself. "You're crying over spilled… milk,"_

"_It's not milk that I spilled," He replied._

"_Do not to this, Tony," She warned him, knowing the destruction it could lead to._

"_Do what, blow my protection detail? Blow my undercover assignment?"_

"_Those sound like apologies," He replied by pulling out a glass for her, motioning for her to take a drink. She accepted reluctantly, only pouring the smallest bit of liquid into her glass._

"_She died alone," Tony said thoughtfully as he held the glass in his hand._

"_We are all alone,"_

"_Yeah thanks for that. I just mean she never got married, never had any children; never even heard her talk about it… Paris," He looked at her, and for a moment their eyes met before he looked off again. "That's when it must have happened,"_

"_The two of them alone, in another world,"_

"_Putting their lives in each other's hands every day," He was looking at her again, but she wouldn't look back. His words spoke of Gibbs and Jenny, but he wasn't. He was talking about them._

"_Not to mention the long nights,"_

"_It was inevitable,"_

"_Nothing is inevitable," She finally met his eyes._

He fingered the rim of the glass before him, ignoring the stinging of liquid guilt in his eyes.

"How could I not have taken that chance?" He knew that then, in the wake of mourning, it wouldn't have been the time or place. But before? That summer? He should have done something.

_He could feel her eyes on him. He looked over, and there she was, looking up at him through her lashes the way she did. Her hair was not quite curly, and not quite wavy. It was wild. Natural. Swept to one side, she appeared more exotic than ever. But right now, all he saw was the woman who understood him better than anyone, reading his every move._

"_What?" He said after a moment._

"_You seem, ah, different," She said._

"_Taller? Hotter?" He suggested playfully._

"_Older," She answered._

"_Well, it's been over four months," He had trouble getting the words out. He hated that they were true._

"_Still beating yourself up over Jenny?"_

"_Not as much as I used to,"_

"_Drinking?"_

"_Not as much as I used to," He said, looking away. He couldn't face her. Not now._

_She touched his arm gently, getting his attention once more. "You could have called."_

_Even after four months, nothing had changed. She still saw right through him. He didn't know how she did it, but she was amazing like that. It wasn't merely her skills of observation or Mossad training in lie detection. It was her. It was Ziva._

He couldn't drink.

Not tonight.

* * *

Abby sat in her lab, a photo of herself and Ziva displayed on her desktop. She had been staring at it for over an hour, her mind wandering from memory to memory, causing her to smile and laugh and cry.

"I miss you, Ziva," She said quietly to the empty room.

"Hey, Abs," McGee said as he walked in.

"Hey, welcome back," She said, embracing him. "How was your time off?"

"We had dinner every night, Abby," He said with a small smile.

"Yeah, a burger and fries," She said grinning a little.

"And Mexican," He said as he leaned up against the back of her desk beside her.

"And Chinese," She caved. "We missed having you around her. A little sanity would do us all some good,"

"Yeah, I know… How's Gibbs?"

Abby shrugged. "He's Gibbs," And that was all she needed to say. She looked at him, his expression undecided. "What?"

"How's Tony?"

"Losing it," She replied simply. "Gibbs ordered him to take the week off. He came in every day at six or even before, which is totally not like him, and staying really late. And the weirdest part is, he's only working cold cases,"

"He must be really out of it," McGee commented.

"He really misses her,"

"We all do,"

Abby nodded with a sad smile. "They haven't found her yet,"

McGee sighed. "Figures it'd be our luck,"

Abby was quiet for a moment. "I think he loved her,"

"Who, Tony?"

She nodded. "Yeah," It was all she said. It was a simple truth, despite the fact that the romance, if one could call it that, had been entirely unlikely and farfetched. Yet somehow, Tony and Ziva had been made for each other. Anyone could see it. It was in the way they bickered and bantered. In how they sat closer than necessary and gave each other these long, meaningful looks that said more than words ever could. It was in how when he was around her, he was different. He was better. He might try and joke around and cover it up, but the fact is, no one bought it. Not even him.

All this seemed to pass between Abby and McGee without a word. "Yeah," He finally agreed with the same word.

It was as simple as that.

As real as that.


	4. And I Am Alone

**A/N: Hello lovely readers. Sorry I haven't updated for a few days. I really have no excuse—just pure laziness, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me.**

**Not a lot to say about today's chapter. It's sad and nostalgic. My favorite.**

**I actually wrote most of the Tony angst with a double meaning in all this—while yes, I wrote it to be his reaction to Ziva's death, I also wrote it in kind of an idea of what he might be going through while Ziva is MIA. I've got my theories on that which I won't go into, but let me just say this: He'll get her in the end. It may take time, but he'll be there and they'll be fine. Better than fine, actually.**

**So yes.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Tony lay on his couch. That is all he did. That is all he wanted to do. And it's all he could convince himself to do. It wasn't that he was being lazy or moping.

He just missed her.

Ha. Anthony DiNozzo, the independent, witty, charming, frat boy missed a woman so badly he didn't want to get up from the couch.

He had become a wimp. _Pimp_, he thought to himself as he remembered her blunder from years before. He smiled a little at the memory.

How he missed correcting her.

It was his first day off, and he was making his best use of it. After coming home yesterday at only three o'clock, he promptly heated up some pasta from a couple weeks ago, not really caring if it was still safe to eat. He ate it in his kitchen and then made his way to the couch where he fell asleep and didn't wake up until eleven the next morning. And after that, he just lay there. He didn't want to get up or drink or shower. He didn't care if he never did any of those things for the rest of his life.

His phone began to ring at four, but he didn't pick up. He couldn't. He just lay there quietly. But after the eleventh call, he finally picked up the phone, merely wanting to sit in silence.

"DiNozzo," He sighed, sitting up.

"Tony, Boss wants to--" McGee started.

"Why haven't you answered?" Gibbs demanded as he took the phone from the younger agent.

"Didn't feel like it," Tony said honestly.

He could hear Gibbs sigh a little bit, probably pulling the phone from his ear for a moment in frustration. "Did you eat?"

"Uh… I had dinner… last night,"

"Get something to eat, DiNozzo,"

"I'm not hungry, Boss," He confessed. It was true. He expected to have to debate with Gibbs, but was surprised by his answer.

"Okay," Gibbs replied after a moment.

"What?"

"Okay," He repeated simply.

"So… I don't have to eat?"

"Not yet," Gibbs clarified.

"Okay, then,"

"Okay," Gibbs said, hanging up.

"That was weird," Tony said to the empty apartment. He shrugged it off, looking around.

"_She died alone,"_

"_We are all alone,"_

Her voice haunted him at all hours of the day. He would close his eyes—not falling asleep, just closing his eyes—and he could swear he could hear her voice, soft and honest. But he would open them, and he would be alone again, like he always had been.

* * *

The next six days followed suit: he would wake up late, lie around for hours, occasionally find a little something to eat, then lie around some more, followed by sleeping until late the next day. Some of his time was spent merely watching the second hand on his clock tick by and by, and sometime he just thought. He thought about her. About their cases. About their fights. All of her English mistakes.

But mostly her smile.

It was amazing how quickly she had become "one of the team." Within the first few weeks, it felt like she had been there forever. She fit in so well—she never put up with his crap, rarely let him share his movie references, and teased them all endlessly. It was perfect. It was easy. Comfortable.

What he wouldn't do to get those days back.

Tony walked into the elevator that first morning back, a little later than usual. He knew Gibbs would be okay with it, at least for today. _I'm tired of pretending_.

Upon entering the squadroom, he was crushed into a King Kong-sized hug from the one and only Abby. "Tonyyyy! You're back! You're back!" She squealed he laughed and reciprocated her enthusiastic hug. He took a deep breath as they parted. _Here it goes, _he thought, dreading normal life and dealing with people, no matter how much he loved them. He hated having to put up a cheerful front, but he was used to it. His charming sense of humor, of course, would help with that.

"Welcome back," McGee said as he walked into the bullpen, a small smile on his face.

"Hey, McGoo," Tony used the nickname out of affection now, out of the need for normalcy. He sat down at his desk and put his SIG, ID and wallet in their usual drawer. He glanced across unwillingly. Ziva's desk had been cleaned out.

"They had to clear it out. We tried to stop them," Abby explained tentatively as the temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees with his silence.

"Vance's orders," McGee said after a moment, Tony still staring at the desk.

"He would, wouldn't he," Tony said. It was more of a statement than a question. He looked away, the dull ache in his heart growing by the minute. "Where's Boss?"

"Coffee run, probably," McGee replied.

"Figures,"

"So what'd you do on your time off?" Abby chirped up.

"Probably had a movie marathon," McGee said with a smile.

"James Bond, I'll bet," She said, grinning. She looked to Tony expectantly.

"Nah… Just kinda hung out," He said, his eyes wandering back to Ziva's desk, vacant and sad.

"That's all you did?"

"Yeah," He said quietly.

Abby and McGee exchanged a look—one of confusion, worry, and surprise. The Tony they had once known was gone, replaced with the fragile shadow of a broken heart.

Gibbs walked in. His pace was slower than usual, though his favorite Jamaican blend coffee was in his hand. He stopped at Tony's desk.

"Welcome back," He said quietly, sincerely.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony replied with tired eyes, despite the ridiculous number of hours he had slept that week.

Gibbs watched him for a moment before walking to his desk. "Dead Marine in Georgetown. Let's go," He said. The team gathered their things and headed out to the elevator quickly. They didn't say a word as they went down the building. They all knew.

_I'm tired of pretending._

The drive to the scene wasn't long nor eventful. The Marine's name was Corporal Eric Kasing. He had been left in a back alley.

"He was shot with a silencer," Ducky said. "Death with instant and simple, all things considered,"

"There's nothing simple about a decorated Marine getting shot in the head, Duck,"

"Perhaps you are more correct than you think," Ducky said as he pulled back the collar. "This small dot here it most likely from a needle of some sort,"

"He was drugged?"

"Well, I'll know more when I do the autopsy. What I do know is that this puncture was not made in the past twenty four hours," He said as he inspected it. "The poor fellow's only been dead for five, maybe six hours. This puncture was from at least a day ago, judging by the scabbing. Even punctures need to heal," He pulled off his gloves. "Let's take him home. Mr. Palmer," He said, standing.

Tony was photographing the scene. He figured Gibbs didn't trust him with talking to the surrounding witnesses. Gibbs was right.

* * *

**Don't forget to review. Unlike those dumb commercials on TV that claim that "We care about what you have to say", I truly do care about your opinions. So feel free to share!**


	5. And Here We Go

**A/N: Hey everyone. Thanks for the fabulous reviews on the last chapter! I'm so honored. You're awesome.**

**Today's chapter really sets apart this story from my other stories and a lot of other stories out there, if I do say so myself. You may not be able to see it quite yet, but you will. It's the start of something, or several somethings, I suppose. You'll get some answers, and some new questions. So get ready, cause we've got quite the ride ahead of us.**

**I'm spoiling you with the extra length—but hey, you're so fabulous, I can't help it. Yes, my favorite word most definitely **_**is**_** "fabulous."**

**Don't forget to review!**

* * *

Gibbs walked into Abby's lab, Caf-Pow in tow. He put it on her desk, but she didn't take it. "Thanks, Gibbs," She said. Her music had come back on, but it was quieter than usual, and perhaps a little sad.

"Whatdya got, Abs?"

"Not a lot. Our killer meant business. The bullet was too damaged to be able to get a match. Lucky him,"

"The blood?"

"Still running," She replied. "I didn't get anything off of Kasing's clothes. Sorry, Gibbs,"

Gibbs gave a small, comforting shrug. "Thanks, Abs," He said and started to leave.

"Something's wrong with Tony," Abby said. Gibbs stopped in his tracks and turned back to her. "He didn't even watch a movie all week. Didn't do anything at all,"

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah, I know,"

"I'm worried," She pressed. "This isn't like him,"

"Last week was hard on him,"

"It was hard on all of us," She said as Gibbs walked back over to her. "Did Mossad ever call?"

"They called Vance,"

"Why wouldn't they call you or Tony or Tim?"

He shrugged. "They took our reports,"

"But they don't want to hear it from you?" Gibbs shook his head. "Ziva would have never let this go," Abby said.

"I won't let it. I'm calling Mossad," Gibbs said storming out of the lab.

Abby blinked back a tear of frustration. It shouldn't have happened this way. None of it should have. But there was no way, no possible way it could be fixed. Not now.

* * *

Gibbs stood in front of the large screen in MTAC.

"Director David will be on in a moment," The technician explained. "Sorry for the way,"

"The Director is a busy man," Gibbs replied dryly.

The screen crackled and Mossad Director Eli David appeared on the screen. "Special Agent Gibbs," He said.

"Not one for pleasantries, are you?" Gibbs mused.

"No, my schedule is busy enough as it is. What can I do for you?"

"You can start by explaining to me why my team has not been contacted about--"

"Ziva's case," Eli finished. Gibbs looked at him expectantly. "We did not need more than your reports,"

"I know how Mossad works. You don't just trust the words on a paper,"

"We did not need to. Ziva was murdured by a contract killer. No name you would know,"

"Ziva was a pro. She wouldn't have just let someone shoot her,"

"No, she wouldn't. But she did. That is what America did to her. She became weak. Her skills deteriorated,"

"She was your _daughter_," Gibbs cried, unable to understand the lack of emotion in this man's eyes.

"And I grieved at her memorial service,"

"Her body was never found. Why?" Gibbs ignored his ridiculous reply.

"This killer was a pro, just like Ziva had been. We may never have the answer,"

"This isn't like you, _Director_,"

"You do not know me, Special Agent Gibbs,"

"I knew your daughter. I know you trained her. I know she would never let a loose end go and I know _you_ taught her that!"

Eli laughed. "You are as passionate as Ziva said you are. But not to worry. The killer is no longer a problem,"

Gibbs didn't need to ask. He knew Mossad would have taken him out. "So that's it. This is where it ends?"

The door to MTAC flew open as Tony walked in at the force of a hurricane. "Wrong. It does _not_ end here, Director,"

Eli smiled. "You must be Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Tony, yes? Ziva spoke often of you,"

Tony ignored the pain in his heart. "Why didn't you call?"

"I just explained to Special Agent Gibbs. It was not necessary,"

"And why not?"

"He was a contract killer,"

"And you know this _how_?"

"You do not need to know that," Eli replied, a patronizing tone in his voice.

"Who hired him?"

Silence. Tony glanced at Gibbs. Mossad was about action, not answers. They both new that.

"That is not important. He is no longer a threat. Ziva is gone,"

"Yes. Your daughter, your last living child was shot and killed and it's of no consequence to you," Tony laughed. "You really are as horrible as I thought. Maybe more,"

"I did not ask to be insulted,"

"You also didn't ask about Ziva. You didn't care. You never did. What kind of a father raises his children to become assassins and Hamas moles? Excuse me, Hamas _terrorists_," Tony chuckled. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore, huh? Ziva's dead. The contract killer is dead. Guess you're all out of problems, then, huh? So it doesn't matter who got Ziva killed? Doesn't matter that he's still out there, murdering people every hour?"

Eli glared at Tony before he cut off the feed. Tony shook his head and turned to Gibbs.

"You wanna explain what that was all about?" Gibbs said, gesturing to the empty screen.

"There's holes in his story the size of the Atlantic, Boss,"

"I know, DiNozzo,"

"He refuses to let Ducky to the autopsy. He refuses to let us investigate. He refuses to find out who wanted Ziva dead. He refuses to find her body. Something is up!"

"Tony," Gibbs started.

"Boss, she could still be alive,"

"Tony," He said, his voice softer. Tony gave a small sigh and looked at him. "You need to let this go. You saw the amount of blood at the scene. No one could have survived losing that amount,"

"Boss," He said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Ziva is dead, Tony. You need to deal with that. Look at you. You're a mess. You can barely concentrate. You're losing it,"

Tony just stared at Gibbs, his expression losing its anger and being replaced with a surprised knowing. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Take another week off. Vance offered you two. But you're gonna use this time to get your head on straight, you understand? You will eat every three hours. You will get up and go to sleep at a decent time. You will do more than lie around or watch movies. You will get out of your apartment. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes bore into Tony, shaking him to consent. "I lost one agent. I'm not losing another,"

"Alright," He gave in softly, unable to fight anymore.

* * *

Tony sat on his couch, finishing off a box of chow mein. He threw the empty container onto his coffee table, which was already covered in numerous take-out cartons and pizza boxes. Several soda cans were stashed in the pile. Dressed in an old Ohio State shirt and shorts, he lay back on the couch lazily. Part of his appetite had come back, but only due to the necessity of sustinance during the long hours Gibbs had the team working.

Kasing's case had been ordered into the cold case pile by Vance earlier that day, stating that his Major Case Response Team didn't need the burden when there were bigger cases to deal with. It had taken an hour of convincing Gibbs not to continue investigating before the special agent stormed out of his office.

His cell phone began to vibrate. Sighing, he pulled it from the table and answered it. "DiNozzo,"

"You at home?" Gibbs asked, not even bothering to say "Hello."

"Yeah…"

"Get out. Go rent a movie,"

"What?"

"Rent a movie, DiNozzo. Get dressed. Get a movie. Get some coffee while you're out,"

"I thought you said no more movies,"

"It's a start, DiNozzo," Gibbs explained. "Shave. Wash your face. And clean off that coffee table. Take out the trash,"

"A start?"

"Yes," Gibbs was determined, and Tony knew that if he didn't follow his instructions, Gibbs would come over to his apartment and give him a headslap.

"Fine," Tony replied, hanging up. He pulled on some jeans and a button up shirt that he had found on his bed and slipped on some shoes. He dug out a trashbag from his cabinets and dumped seven pizza boxes, thirteen Chine takeout containers, twenty-one soda cans, and a whole lot of other unidentifiable crap into the bag. He grabbed his keys and wallet and took them with him as he walked down the hall to the elevator. _I'm tired of pretending_.

He drove to his favorite movie store where he had, of course, a Platinum Membership.

"Tony! It's great to see you," The cashier said. He knew her face from seeing her here so many times, and she knew his name from the number of times she had seen his ID in his wallet. "Haven't seen you around here in a few weeks,"

"Yeah, well, I've been busy," He said as he scanned the New Arrivals aisle. "Work's been a pain,"

"I know how it is… Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really," He said.

"Alright, then. Let me know if you need any help,"

He flashed her a quick smile and nod before he walked down the aisles some more. Nothing sounded appealing. It was all either too depressing or not depressing enough. Finally his eye landed on one that sounded just right. He picked it up and brought it to the cashier.

"_The Sound of Music_. Girlfriend making you watch it?"

Tony pulled out his wallet. "Not my girlfriend," He answered vaguely.

"But you care about her,"

"Obviously not enough," The cashier looked at him, confused. "I got her killed,"He said as the cashier handed him the bag. He walked out the door, leaving her stunned at the register.

Tony walked to his car and got in. It was only then that he hear a faint beeping from the back of the car. "Oh, crap," He mumbled as he opened the door and ran, barely making it a few feet before the thunder of an explosion threw him to the asphalt. His head was throbbing, and the world was on fire, but all he saw was her face.

"_I'm here with you."_

And then, it all went black.


	6. And Here I Sit

**A/N: I know, last chapter seemed a bit repetitive, with the blowing-up-of-Tony again, but trust me, it's not what it seems. Just read, yes?**

**So yesterday I decided to try and work out some more of the plot, and you know what I did? I made one of those idea-web-things they teach you how to make in school, with boxes and words connect with lines and stuff. I even outlined some in colorful markers. I just had to tape on a second sheet of paper, so now it's really big. It was so fun. And it's kind of hard to read. Hey, maybe I'll scan it and post it in my profile when this story is over… We'll see. Anyway, let's just say that I know what's going to happen now, at least somewhat. Still have a ton to work through.**

**A Rose in the Night pointed out not long ago that I have this thing where I always capitalize pronouns after a quote. Yeah, sorry about that! Punctuation rules and grammar and such have never been my strong point, so if sometimes it turns out a little hinky, sorry. I just added "hinky" to my dictionary. Yesss. Anyway, the pronoun thing will get better in a few chapters, cause I started to fix it on page 35 out of 37, and you guys are only on page 15 right now, so yeah… Sorry. : )**

**Today's chapter is short, but the next chapter is pretty major, so stick with me, alright?**

**Don't forget to review, dear ones.**

* * *

Tony found himself sitting in the back of an ambulance thirty minutes later. His hands, arms and the side of his face were scrapped and red, a sour looking bump and bruise on his head, and he had a raging headache, but no real damage had been done.

"I'm surprised you don't have a concussion. With hit to the head like that, you should still be unconscious," A female EMT told him, handing him an ice pack.

"Guess it just wasn't my time," He said, wincing as he placed the ice pack just to the right of his forehead.

She pulled out some rubbing alcohol, a cotton ball, and a friendly-looking syringe. She sterilized his arm and picked up the syringe. "This is just a mild-painkiller," She explained. "You really are lucky, Mr. DiNozzo. A blast like that could have, well…"

Tony chuckled. "Trust me, I know. This isn't the first time my car has blown up," Her eyes widened. Gibbs came up to him after having a just as explosive argument with Metro PD to determine jurisdiction. The EMT walked away, shaking her head.

"There goes any chance of getting her number," _Not that I really want it…_

"We got the case," He said, sitting down beside him.

Tony held an ice pack to his head. "That's great, Boss," He grunted.

"Guess it's time to pull out that list again," Tony commented.

Gibbs waited a moment before speaking again. "Any idea who would do this?"

"Nah, no one specifically. Not on the list anyway. They'd probably take it a little more personally. Maybe a stabbing or a little torture or something. But I don't think any of them really have the skills to pull off something like this,"

"Never underestimate your opponent," Gibbs said. Tony shrugged in compliance. "Did anyone else know you were gonna be here?"

"Only you, Boss,"

"You didn't talk to anyone? Not a neighbor on your way out or the doorman…?"

"Nope. Don't feel much like chit-chat these days," He mused looking out to the scene. Yellow tape marked off the entire shopping complex. McGee was taking witness statements, aided by a temporary Special Agent Jane Levin that Vance had ordered Gibbs to take, who was busy photographing the scene. Forty feet off stood what was left of Tony's car. "Can't even go a year without having to get a new one," Tony commented with a bit of a chuckle.

"He missed. You're still alive," Gibbs mused after a moment.

"Yeah," Tony said, though it was obvious. "You think he'll try again?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Probably,"

Tony grinned. "Great," He said sarcastically.

"You're coming back to NCIS until we figure this out,"

"So much for vacation,"

"Don't blame me. You just attract enemies," Gibbs said with a humorous tone in his voice. Tony grinned and held up his free hand.

"Guess it's just the DiNozzo charm," He said as Gibbs walked away.

McGee joined Tony, pad of paper in hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be on painkillers for a week but I'll live,"

"Good… I gotta take your statement,"

"You know, our system is all about overkill. I give you an informal statement here, then we do a formal one at headquarters, then I write up an incident report," Tony said with a grin.

"Glad to see you're in such a humorous mood," McGee commented.

"Yeah, well, I guess the painkillers already kicked in," McGee smiled, but gave him an expectant look. Tony took a big breath. "I walked out of the movie store at seven thirty-four. Unlocked my car, got in. Before I could start the engine I heard a faint beeping and I figured it was a bomb, so I got out of the car and ran four, maybe five feet before it exploded. I was knocked to the ground and went unconscious a second later,"

"Sounds exciting," McGee said dryly.

"Oh, it was. You should try it sometime. I'd be glad to share my bad luck with anyone. Really, anyone else. I've had my share and I think I should pass it on,"

McGee raised his eyebrows in amusement as he finished writing on the notepad. Tony was right. Born into a wealthy family on Long Island, then disowned at twelve? That sucks enough. But then having your partner killed beside you, her blood on your face? Then butchering your undercover assignment? Then watching your friend sacrifice her life to a terrorist? Then failing your protection detail and getting the director of an armed federal agency killed? Then getting sent to sea for four months? _Then_ knowing that your new partner was dead but never finding her body? His life had sucked beyond all imagining. It might make for a good book…

"Bad idea, McGee," Gibbs said as he walked past them.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Boss," Gibbs looked at him from over his shoulder. Tim knew that look. "I'm gonna go see if Levin is ready to collect the evidence,"

And so there he sat, alone on the ambulance. His outward appearance finally matched his inward appearance: broken, bruised, raw.

And so there he sat.


	7. And I Crash

**A/N: Hey guys.**

**Here's today's chapter. Short, but here's where we really begin a new part of the plot, and you'll soon see why. I'll say this much: Tony isn't dead. I know with all the stuff happening to him in this story and past stories, you might think I just like to kill off our favorite characters. Not true. You'll see why this is so important in the next chapter, and how it's actually a lot different than in the past. **

**See you soon! Don't forget to review.**

* * *

Tony sat at his desk, his fingers tapping at the desk underneath his hands in boredom. He yawned. Gibbs had ordered him not to do anything until he got back, and though Gibbs wasn't allowed to headslap him for a few days, he knew the consequences that he would face were he to disobey those orders.

McGee sat at his own desk, typing furiously, searching through Tony's list of enemies. After several sarcastic jests, Tony had finally worn down the younger agent with spitballs and now they sat in silence.

"So how did Gibbs ever convince Metro to let us have the case?" Tony interrupted the silence.

McGee stopped typing hesitantly. "Said it made sense,"

"Made sense?"

"Said he had reason to believe it was connected to NCIS, what with Ziva,"

"Both had bombs," Tony realized. "Still, it's not much to go on,"

"Metro doesn't know that," McGee said.

"Ah," He replied, returning to tapping his fingers on his desk. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. He took three with a large gulp of the cold coffee that sat on his desk. "What can I do, Boss?" He wiped at his forehead, feeling the sweat that had moistened his head. He pulled of his jacket, glad to be wearing some more casual clothing—it was far too hot in the squadroom tonight. The humidity seemed worse than usual.

Gibbs looked around. "Go to Autopsy,"

"I knew I annoyed you, Boss, but I didn't think you'd wish me dead,"

"Get some sleep," He ordered. He knew what Tony was doing. It was what he had always done. He was hiding behind his humor, his jokes. He was protecting himself.

"Okay, Boss," Tony said after a moment, suddenly realizing finding himself exhausted. He walked over to the elevator and pressed the "down" button. He rubbed at his aching head. The elevator opened quickly. Figures. It was two AM. Hardly anyone was in the building. _I'm tired of pretending._

He stood in the elevator for a moment and the throbbing in his head grew at an amazing rate. He could feel his heart begin to speed up. He threw his hands to his head, doubling over. Too many memories. Too many emotions. They were filling his mind like water to a car. He couldn't get them out. And when they were in, he couldn't block them out. He was drowning is in own head.

"Agh!" He cried a little, his face contorted. Sweat moistened his forehead and neck as he began to lose control. His breathing was growing heavy and uneven. He groaned loudly as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He clutched his head, voices running through his mind at the speed of light. He felt his lungs closing up.

_Ding!_ He could hear the elevator doors open, but he only groaned more loudly, unable to stand, unable to call, unable to think.

"Tony?" A far off voice called.

He couldn't answer.

He was gone.

_I'm here with you._

_I'm here with you._

_I'm here with you._

**Poor Tony. Check back soon for a new chapter. Please review!**

* * *


	8. And This Won't Work

**A/N: Hey. Here's today's chapter. Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

Bright lights. Yes. He had died. That must have been what had happened. Light was the first thing he noticed as he opened his eyes, just a little. But as he willed himself to open them wider, he realized the truth: he wasn't dead. He was in a hospital.

"Tony?" A tentative voice asked. _Abby_. "Tony, are you awake?" He blinked a few times, his vision finally focusing on Abby. "Hey, Tony," She said softly, smiling. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat achingly dry. "Wait, hold on," She said, pouring him a cup of water from the plastic pitcher beside the bed.

She held it to his mouth and he took a small sip. "Thanks," He said in a low voice. Abby smiled. Just then, Gibbs and McGee walked in. "Boss," He said. He tried to sit up.

Gibbs put up a hand. "Not yet, DiNozzo," Tony relaxed into the pillows on the hospital bed, relieved. It was then that he became aware of the numerous machines he was connected to, and the breathing tubes in his nose. A doctor walked in.

"Mr. DiNozzo? I'm Doctor Wilder,"

"Hey, Doc,"

"Do you know where you are?" Dr. Wilder asked in a kind voice.

Tony motioned to the cup in Abby's hand. He couldn't have enough of the water. She allowed him to finish the cup. "Hospital," He said after he had finished.

"Bethesda,"

"Great," Tony said, his voice still soft.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Tony closed his eyes as he remembered, wincing. "I walked into the elevator. Started to remember some things. Started to get all sweaty and hot. My head was throbbing. My knees buckled and I went down. I couldn't breathe and my heart was going crazy. I remember the elevator doors opening and I think I hear someone call my name and then I went unconscious," Tony glanced at Gibbs. "What happened to me?"

"You had an acute stress reaction,"

"I'm not stressed," Tony protested.

Dr. Wilder hesitated before speaking. "I understand your partner died a few weeks ago, and you haven't been sleeping or eating well since. You've been depressed,"

"I've been sleeping and eating just fine,"

"Special Agent Gibbs tells me you've been sleeping for over eighteen hours at a time,"

Tony looked down. "Didn't feel like doing much else,"

"Depression," McGee reminded him. "Not to mention the endless take-out,"

"I'm fine," He insisted.

"Then why are you in a hospital bed?" Gibbs pointed out. Tony sighed.

"I hear you also suffered a heavy blow to the head two days ago,"

"I've been out that long, huh?"

"Mr. DiNozzo,"

"_Special Agent _DiNozzo," Tony corrected.

"Special Agent DiNozzo. It's not my area of expertise, but it sounds to me like you're suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,"

"Ha!" Tony laughed a little, but the concerned looks on his co-workers eyes told him the truth. "So what, I gotta go see a shrink?"

"Among other things. I'm referring you to my friend, Dr. Sherry Barlow. She also works here at Bethesda. This is all free, since you work for NCIS,"

"Fantastic. So how long am I out of work for?" Tony asked, his voice sarcastic with frustration.

"Depends,"

"On what?"

"How long it takes you to heal," _I never will_.

* * *

Tony sat uncomfortably in the large, roomy office, just as he had in the small, dark waiting waiting room, or whatever the secretary had called it. A flag with only thirteen stars was framed on the wall, along with a myriad of ship models and awards.

A woman walked in, dressed in a suit and white "lab" coat. She had blond shoulder length hair, probably in her fifties. She held out her hand to Tony. "I'm Dr. Sherry Barlow,"

"Tony DiNozzo, NCIS," He said. She sat down in a chair across from him, typical yellow notepad in hand. He laughed at the stereotype. "Now before you make any assumptions or whatever crap you call it, I don't buy the whole anti-depressants and journaling and yoga and meditation thing. It's all just a show. Trust me, I know, so don't even try and make me think otherwise,"

"Okay," She complied.

He grinned. "Yeah, see, this is what I figured you'd do. Agree with everything I say. Do whatever it takes to keep my blood pressure low and my spirits high,"

"I'm just here for you to talk, Special Agent DiNozzo. Tell me about yourself,"

"You've seen my file,"

"I haven't talked to you, though,"

He chuckled but decided to give in a little. Just a little. "Fine. Grew up in New York. Majored in Physical Education at Ohio State University. Played basketball there. Worked in a few different police departments. Parked at NCIS,"

"That tells me nothing,"

"I don't need to tell you anything. I'm fine,"

"Then why were you in a hospital two weeks ago?"

Tony laughed. "That's what my boss asked," His smile fell just a little. "I had an acute stress reaction,"

"I know,"

"Exactly,"

Dr. Barlow sighed. "Tell me about your partner,"

Tony shifted on the couch. "Ziva was a Mossad officer. She joined the team four years ago. Almost five. Kicked my butt all the time. I usually deserved it. I messed with her all the time, but to tell you the truth, I think she enjoyed it," His eyes grew distant as he spoke. "She was murdered a few weeks back. Never found her body,"

"I'm sorry for your loss,"

"They taught me that one too,"

She sighed once more. "Special Agent DiNozzo, if you don't work this out, you'll never go back to NCIS as a special agent. You won't pass your psych evals. You're on a self-destructive path. You could run down your immune system. You could die,"

"Yeah, probably," He agreed.

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Tony looked down. "Not anymore,"

"You lived for her," She realized. He looked up quickly. "And now that she's gone, you're not sure how to live without her,"

"I'm perfectly independent, Dr. Barlow,"

"I know. Let me fill in the blanks for you, Special Agent DiNozzo. You were disinherited at twelve by your father who remarried multiple times after your mother died. You moved from department to department when you landed at NCIS and finally found a home there. Then your partner, Kate dies. Ziva joins the team. You're compromised in your undercover assignment. You failed your protection duty and Director Shepard died. You were relocated to the _USS Ronald Regean _and then the _USS Seahawk_. You were finally rejoined with your team four months later. You've been moving around your whole life. You _are_ independent,"

"Then why am I here?"

"I'd ask you the same question," She replied. She looked at him. She saw the dark circles surrounding his tired, weak green eyes. She saw the hopeless expression on his face. She understood. "You don't have to believe what I say, Special Agent DiNozzo. You don't have to buy a word of it. But you don't have to blame yourself either. Not for this. Not for any of it," She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. "Your case is a very mild one, despite your stress reaction. You're not a danger to yourself or to anyone else around here, as long as you follow my orders. You need to get eight to ten hours of sleep every night. Three healthy meals a day. You need to get some exercise. Get involved in some activities outside of work. Come meet with me once a week for the next five weeks and we'll see if we can get you to pass your psych evaluations, alright? But for now, you should call this number,"

"Whose is it? Another doctor? You giving up on me, Dr. Barlow?" He asked, his tone sarcastic once more.

"No. Rebekah David. Ziva's cousin. I believe she has something for you,"


	9. And I Had No Idea

**A/N: Wow, fantastic response for the last chapter! Thanks so much! I'll admit, I thought some of you had forgotten about me for a minute there, but it's all cool now.**

**Today's chapter is pretty interesting. I'd add more, but the next chapter changes everything, though gradually somehow… You'll just have to see for yourself.**

**I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot. I've actually been to Washington, DC (going back at the end of August—it's my favorite place ever!) so that's why you'll see a lot of description on the DC memorials and monuments. I'll explain the FDR memorial for those who don't know about it: This memorial was built in honor of President Franklin Delanor Roosevelt (cousin of President Theodore Roosevelt, yes). He was President during the Great Depression and made a lot of effort to restore the economy and morale of the US. In the memorial, there are multiple different sections you walk through (outside, beneath the most beautiful cherry blossom trees. It's near the Basin of the Potomac River, across from the Jefferson Memorial.) Each section has a water element, quotes by FDR, and sometimes a sculpture and flowers and such. It's lovely.**

**Anyway, here we go.**

* * *

_Rebekah David_. That's all the paper said besides the phone number. He had been sitting under one of the cherry blossom trees surrounding the Basin for over an hour now, fingering the paper in his hand.

He didn't know Ziva had a cousin.

He didn't know what she had for him.

He didn't know what to think about Dr. Barlow.

He didn't know much at all right now.

_I should call her,_ he though. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. His finger hovered over the "Send" button. He was afraid of what he might find. Afraid of what he might not.

Finally, he summoned the courage and called. It ringed twice. On the third ring, an unaccented voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, um… My name is Anthony DiNozzo. Tony. Um… Special Agent…"

"I know who you are," She replied. He could hear the smile in her voice. "My name is Rebekah,"

"Ziva's cousin,"

"Yes, that's correct,"

"Um… Dr. Barlow says you have something for me,"

"I do,"

"So…"

"When can we meet?"

"How soon can you be at the FDR Memorial?"

She laughed. "Ten minutes,"

"I thought you were her cousin,"

"I am. I'm currently at the Israeli Embassy,"

"You work for them?"

"In a way. I am Mossad,"

"Really?" He said, surprised yet not surprised at all.

"Yes, Special Agent DiNozzo. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," She said, hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, she came. She met him by the miniature waterfall within the memorial. As she approached him, he recognized her as the young woman he met the day he met Ziva, at the hotel. He grinned as he remembered how much of a fool he had made of himself so as to not raise suspicion as he watched Ziva.

"Hello, Special Agent DiNozzo," She said, shaking his hand.

"Tony," He corrected her, and she smiled. She looked at the waterfall for a moment, then looked back at him, her eyes more solemn and serious and nostalgic.

"Ziva loved Washington,"

"Yeah, she did,"

"Not at first, but it grew on her quickly, I think,"

"She was always able to adapt,"

Rebekah laughed softly as she studied his face. His smile could melt the Arctic if he wanted to, but his eyes were sad and weary. "Ziva spoke very fondly of you,"

"That's good to know," He said, looking away as the subtle pain in his heart thump-thump-thumped.

"Ziva gave this to me, six months ago," She said pulling out a thin white envelope from her pocket. "She told me that in the event of her death, I was to give it to you. I had hoped it would not be so soon,"

"What's your connection to Dr. Barlow?" He asked, slipping into investigator mode, trying not to think about what could be in the envelope. They began to walk slowly and casually.

"She is just a friend. When I heard you were coming to see her, I had her give you my number,"

"Why not just call me? I'm sure you had the resources. Besides isn't that against some sort of honor code or something for doctors?"

Rebekah shrugged. "I didn't call you because it just didn't work out that way. And yes, there is some _code_ used in circumstances," She said.

"But there's nothing normal about this, is there?" Rebekah shook her head a little. Tony decided not to push it any further. He looked at the envelope in his hand. His name was on the front in her familiar scribble. He fingered it for a moment. "Do you know what's inside?"

Rebekah shook her head. "No. Ziva and I didn't talk often, but when we did, all she talked about was NCIS,"

"I didn't know Ziva kept contact with any family," He said, feeling momentarily betrayed.

"She usually doesn't. _Didn't._ My uncle… Eli… He loved Ziva very much. He just…"

"Had a severely misconstrued view of reality," Tony finished, looking around at the memorial. It was empty and cool, shaded by the sweet pink blossoms of the cherry blossom trees.

"That is one way to put it,"

"Then why are you in Mossad?"

"I was not raised to be Mossad, if that's what you're asking. I volunteered,"

"That's what Ziva said. Said she volunteered out of an 'Israeli sense of duty,'"

"Sounds like something she would say. She was correct in saying it, however. She loved Israel. Though she was raised and grown to join Mossad, it was always her choice. When we would learn about the fallen who died in the line of duty to our country, she would get this distant look in her eyes. I asked her about it once. She said that she felt as if she owed them," Tony smiled, remembering Ziva's fierce loyalty and love. "I was surprised to hear that she joined NCIS. I did not think she would give up the adventure of missions. But I suppose that was never what fueled her decisions,"

"Head over heart,"

Rebekah smiled. "Always. Ziva always took care of everyone,"

"Everyone but herself," He remembered.

She nodded. "She always did what was best for the mission, for the people she cared about. She rarely did anything for herself,"

"She was pretty amazing that way,"

"I hadn't seen her since our last mission in DC together," She was talking about Ari. _Thump-thump_. "Six months ago I was back in the area and we decided to meet," She laughed. "I hardly recognized her,"

"What changed?"

"She did. Ziva was always so beautiful, but when I saw her, she was glowing. She was wearing make-up and her dress had certainly become more feminine, but that wasn't it. Her eyes were radiant and her smile was more genuine than I had ever seen before," Rebekah looked at him. "You changed her," Her words were a declaration, not a question, not a mere statement, not empty words. She knew.

Tony laughed. "Me? No, she never listened to anything I said, and I never listened to anything she said,"

Rebekah eyed him as they paused their walking. "You are not telling the truth,"

"Okay, maybe I listened to her once or twice, but even then, Ziva didn't care what I had to say,"

"I think she did. The woman I once knew rarely opened up. She kept everything inside. She would smile and joke, yes, but I don't think she was every really happy. Not until she met… you," Tony looked at her, confused. "You changed her, Tony. You all did," She said. Her voice was certain and assured. No doubts, no questions. She knew the truth. "Thank you for that,"

Tony's eyes met hers. "I'm not really sure what to say, but, you're welcome, I guess,"

Rebekah touched Tony's arm gently. "Whatever is inside, I owe you. Do not hesitate to call if you need anything, yes?"

"Yeah, sure,"

She smiled and began to walk away.

And that was that.


	10. And Somehow You Changed Me

**A/N: Hey everyone here's today's chapter where the contents of the envelope is revealed. It might not seem terribly important yet, but this is a key factor in our story, alright?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony shut the door to his apartment behind him. He felt as if he was moving in slow motion. He still hadn't opened the envelope. His mind was reeling with Rebekah's words. _You changed her._ He didn't believe her.

He slid down the back of the door, envelope still in his hands. Finally, he opened it, finding a single sheet of paper within.

_Dear Tony,_

_If you're reading this, I'm dead. It is as simple as that, no matter the circumstances._

_I'm really not quite sure what to say or how to do so. I do not even know why I am writing this. I just… I know need to. I cannot explain it._

_Do you remember when we were trapped inside that shipping container? You asked me about my happiest moment. I never did tell you, did I? You would probably assume it has something to do with weapons or interrogations, but you should stop right there. You are incorrect._

Tony smiled at the uncanny way she seemed to know his thoughts, even though she was gone.

_I don't have one._

_It was spending every day in the squadroom with Gibbs and McGee and in Abby's lab and in Autopsy with Ducky and… with you. _

_Listen to me, I am writing this as if I am already dead. Perhaps Abby has rubbed off on me. Perhaps it is just all the death I have already seen. All the left behind. All the unsaid words. All the things that never got to happen._

_I have never asked for much in my life. I have never needed to. I never had the chance. Not until I came to NCIS. For the first time, I was a priority in my life. I learned so much from you guys. From McGee and Ducky and Gibbs and Abby and you. I learned how to live and to laugh. I have never been so purely happy. Sometimes I wonder how long I can make this last—it seems too good to be true._

_I suppose if you are reading this, then it was._

_Tony. You changed me. I cannot think of any other way to describe it. I owe you, Tony. I wish… I wish there was a way to be able to repay you, except with the truth._

_I don't know when it began. I don't know if it was when I first walked into the squadroom or when I was so scared they would kill you when we were undercover as married assassins. Or perhaps it was the time when I was afraid I'd lose you, to the plague and then to Jeanne, and then when I was afraid I'd already lost you to the explosion in your car. I don't know when, but somewhere in between I… I fell in love. I fell in love with you. It happened to gradually and yet so all-of-a-sudden._

_I can hardly believe the words I am writing. It does not sound like me. I do not fall in love. It is not simple. Love is difficult._

_But then, love takes risks. One must put their heart on the line, and I did not think I would be able to do that with anyone ever again, not until I met you. Ha, listen to me—I sound like one of those women on that Lifetime thing you were talking about. _

_I don't know where we will be when you receive this, but I hope we took that chance. I hope I told you._

_I am not sure why I fell in love with you. You are exasperating. Your incessant talk of movies is ridiculous. You fight with me and we argue and we bicker and… perhaps that is why. That is what made us, "us"._

_I cannot tell you how much I loved you, Tony. But I did. I do. You changed me. You dared me to be happy, to do something with myself. To live. To move. And when I did… Ha, I even bought a TV and now have cable. I still am not sure how you talked me into that… Thank you, Tony._

_I know I'm gone. I know I can't rightfully as you to do anything for me; you have already done so much. But this one request is for you: don't give up. Don't stop living. Find purpose. Find happiness. Promise me you will, yes? The only thing that is required for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing. So do something. Please, Tony. Do it for me._

_And Tony, I want you to promise me one more thing: find love again. I know you will find someone amazing. Do not let your chance go by. Don't spend your whole life waiting for your whole life._

_I know I'm not here, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm here with you._

_-Ziva_

_P.S. I used contractions. Just for you._

Tony set down the letter on the hard wooden floor beside him. He hadn't noticed to tears that had slipped down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed the setting sun outside his window. He hadn't noticed that his phone had vibrated twice or that the baby next door was crying. He didn't notice that the apartment had grown darker or that his window had been sprinkled with misty raindrops. All he saw were the words on the letter. He took his time reading it, then re-reading it and re-reading it and re-reading it until he could speak the words from memory.

_I'm here with you_. The words had called out to him only seconds before his world had darkened to nothing only days before. Tony shuddered.


	11. And I'll Change for You Too

**A/N: Wow, such fantastic response this past week. You guys are incredible. And here's a shout out to my awesome forum friends--hey guys!**

**Here's today's chapter. We get to see Tony's initial response to Ziva's letter. This is one of my favorite chapters, I think. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Tony awoke the next morning, her words still haunting him as he slept and as he poured his coffee and as he put on jeans and a t-shirt and coat and as he walked out the door. It was eight in the morning, and surprisingly, he didn't feel as tired as he had been. It may have had something to do with the fact that he took two sleeping pills very early the night before, but he preferred to think it had to do with the letter.

He wasn't quite sure what motivated him to take a walk that morning. It had rained over night, and the morning was soft and foggy and overcast. He walked down the long pathway that led up to the Lincoln Memorial, the world quiet around him. The tourists had been shooed away by the rain, all likely crowding up the Smithsonian and Library of Congress. An occasional jogger flew by, but other than that, he seemed to be alone with the birds.

The air was cool and mysterious. He could faintly see the Memorial a couple hundred yards ahead, the Washington Monument standing stoically behind him, lost in the fog. Tony shivered and looked over his shoulder. He felt as if someone was watching him. _I'm here with you_. No one was around. No one but him and the pigeons that flew by quietly, disappearing into the fog one by one. He smiled to himself, remembering how Ziva could always tell when she was being followed or watched. She always said it was a part of her training, but he always thought it was just a natural ability.

So much had come naturally to her. Fighting, knife-throwing, shooting, interrogating, going undercover, and then eventually, investigating. Few things caused her trouble—conquering American idioms, tolerating those who irritated her, interrogating without physically injuring the subject, falling for the right person…

They never had gotten the timing right. When she was ready he was with Jeanne or healing from the ordeal. When he was ready, Jenny died and they were separated for the summer. And when they were reunited, things just weren't the same.

Tony looked around and sighed. The loneliness, the silence… It was doing something to him, something he couldn't stand. Tony closed his eyes and tried to remember what day it was. _Sunday._ The team had the day off. He pulled out his cell phone. Almost two hours had passed since he left his apartment. Dialing a familiar number, he was greeted by the kind voice of a Scotsman.

"Hey Ducky. Feel like going for a stroll?"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Ducky was walking beside him, rambling on about how the weather reminded him of some time he had spent in London, England, studying.

"It always rained on Sundays. One after the other, faithful as my mother's tendency to fire our maid at least twice a day. I always hired her again," He explained sensibly. "But that's not what you invited me to walk with you for. Certainly you had something else in mind to talk about," He said insightfully, looking at the Italian who stared at the dirt ground as they walked slowly and comfortably. "Perhaps you were thinking of something more along the lines of a certain Mossad officer?"

Tony's eyes shot to Ducky, who didn't flinch, but instead seemed to read him. Tony sighed and looked away with a shrug. "I dunno. I got a letter from her,"

"From Ziva?"

Tony nodded. "She wrote it to me, six months ago. Gave it to her cousin to give to me if she died,"

"Oh my," Ducky said, furrowing his brow. "If you don't mind me asking, what did she write?"

"It wasn't long," Tony said. "That was like her,"

"She always was very straightforward,"

"She said I changed her, Ducky. Said I taught her how to live and laugh," He chuckled. "Sounds like something you'd find on a Lifetime movie," His smile fell as he moved on. "I don't buy it,"

"And why not?"

"How could I change anyone? I'm obnoxious and I talk about movies way too much and I haven't had a steady relationship for," He paused before moving on. "For a while, and I eat like crap and I had some drinking issues a while back and I've always flit from woman to woman and--"

"She told you she loved you," Ducky realized, cutting in. Tony didn't answer. "Well she obviously saw something in you that you didn't,"

"But what, Ducky? Look at me! I'm a mess," He said, looking down at his rumpled shirt and slightly faded jeans—faded from wash, not wear. His hair was clean enough but a little overgrown and he hadn't shaved that morning.

"Perhaps she saw someone who loved life, who was willing to take a risk now and then," _Love takes risks_. "Perhaps you inspired her to do the same,"

"Why would anyone listen to me?" He said, defeated. "There is nothing but crap around here,"

"She saw beneath all of that. She saw a man who hurts more than he lets on, cares more than he acts, loves more than he shows," Tony said nothing, but looked around at the surrounding area, his eyes following the birds. "You loved her back, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," He said softly. "And I never told her," He chuckled in frustration. "She said that in her letter. Said she hoped that by the time I got her letter we would have taken our chance," His voice was filled with regret, his eyes with pain.

"What else did she say?" Ducky asked after a moment.

"She said she wanted me to find purpose and happiness and love. Said she wanted me to not give up living," He said, speaking slowly, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

They had reached the Memorial now. They walked up the steps and finally settled on the top steps, overlooking the nation's capitol. "She must have loved you a great deal,"

That was it. A relentless tear fell down his face and he wiped it away hastily. Ducky put a fatherly arm around Tony's arms, breaking the dam. His tears flowed freely now, unable to stop them. He felt so weak and vulnerable, but he couldn't stop himself this time.

In a few minutes, seemingly eternity, he had stopped crying, but his head hung in his hands.

"She may be gone, but she never left you alone," Ducky said quietly.

"She said that too, in her letter… I don't know what to do, Ducky,"

"Perhaps you should try and take her advice,"

"What if I don't want to?" Tony asked, wiping at his cheeks and suddenly feeling so small.

"Don't dishonor her memory, Anthony, by letting yourself go on like this. Give it a try, for her,"

Tony sighed and looked up out at the city below. He felt weak and inadequate, having failed, her and his team and Gibbs. He always had. But Ziva… Somehow she saw past all that. Saw the man he could be.

He swallowed. "Alright,"

_I'm here with you._


	12. And I May Find It's Easier Now

**A/N: Hey everyone. Here's today's chapter, and the new plot really takes off here.**

**For this story I had a lot of different songs in mind for both the name and the inspiration. I chose "Falling Apart" by Matt Nathanson, but "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot was a close second. That song really expresses what Tony's going through. You should check it out on YouTube or something—it's totally worth it.**

**Another note: Now I know we haven't mentioned Ziva's current status or lack thereof for a while. While I can't say she's alive or dead for sure (That would be boring), I can say this: that loose end isn't tied up yet. Alright? Fabulous.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He hadn't planned on going for a run that day, but remembering that somehow it'd get Dr. Barlow to get his psych evals passed, he was willing. It was dreadful for the first ten minutes, his limbs weak and sore from not having been used much lately. But soon he fell into a steady, comfortable rhythm. It had warmed up a bit and the sky had cleared for a little while.

He also knew that it'd be one thing he'd check off his list for Ziva.

He slowed to a walk as he neared a park. Several kids were playing basketball. Tony instinctively made his way over to the group.

"Mind if I play?" He asked one of the boys. He had blond hair grown over to his ears.

The boy looked him over skeptically and glanced at some of the others. "Alright. I'm Jared,"

"Tony,"

And so they played. They played for two hours until they became too tired to play any longer.

"You guys are pretty good," Tony commented as they finally sat down on the grass to rest.

"Thanks," Jared said. "You're not bad yourself,"

"I played in college. Went to the Final Four with UCLA,"

"Wow," He said, somewhat impressed

"You on a team?"

"We all are. Our coach is moving though,"

"That sucks,"

"Yeah… We come out here every afternoon in the summer 'till our moms bug us about coming home for dinner,"

"I remember those days. I _lived_ on the court," Tony said, his eyes becoming distant as he remembered his alcoholic father and mentally unstable mother. The court had become more home to home than his house. During the summer hours he'd stay out there from morning 'till he couldn't see any more. "Mind if I join you guys sometime?"

Jared shrugged. "Sure," he said nonchalantly.

Tony lay back on the grass, his hands behind his head. The soft breeze was growing cooler. The sky was covered in clouds, excepting a small open area through which the sweet golden sun shone through, lighting up the world like a painting. Ziva would have loved this. The ache in his heart pound in tune with the songs of the birds. _I'm here with you_.

* * *

"Tony!" A cherry voice cried before he got the chance to greet her. Abby. Tony smiled. "How are you? Feeling better?"

"I got nine hours of sleep last night, so I'm feeling just fine," That was all he felt, besides guilty.

"What'd you do last night?"

"Went for a jog. Played some basketball with some kids at the park," He laughed. "They kicked my butt,"

"Probably since it's been so long that you worked it out,"

"Hey! I am in the prime of my youth,"

"You're thirty seven, Tony. No one is in the prime of their youth,"

"Hm," He huffed playfully.

"You have lunch plans?" It was eleven in the morning, only an hour until her lunch break.

"Nah,"

"Want to grab some Chinese with me?"

"Sure," Tony said.

"Meet me at our usual place in an hour?"

"I'll be there," He said.

* * *

An hour later they were sitting at their favorite Chinese place. His chow mein and honey mustard chicken had hit the spot, along with the multiple sides they had ordered to share.

"It's not technically authentic, but you gotta love it," Abby commented as she took another bite, picking up the chicken skillfully with her chop-sticks. "So tell me about the basketball game,"

"Which one?"

"The one you played last night, at the park,"

"Oh, that one. It was fun. They play there all the time. Reminds me of when I was a kid,"

"When I was a kid, I… Never mind," Abby grinned.

Tony laughed and moved on. "They're all on a team together, but their coach is moving soon, so," He shrugged, not finishing the sentence.

"You should coach them," Abby said as she took another bite.

"Ha, me?"

"Yeah, you. You'd be great at it. And don't tell me you don't have the time. When do they meet?"

"Saturday nights,"

"Well there you go," She said, gesturing with her chopsticks.

"Abby, I don't know--"

"Tony, come on. What else are you going to do? Knit?"

"My Great Aunt Willafred was an excellent knitter," He said, his eyes dancing.

"Oh please. You know you want to," She said, absolutely positive.

"I haven't played in years,"

"Neither has John Wooden," Abby reminded him of the great UCLA coach.

He sighed. "I don't know…"

"You have to do something with your life," Abby pointed out. She put an encouraging hand on his arm which rested on the table. "If Ziva was here she'd be all over it,"

_Do it for me_. "She would, wouldn't she?"

"You should do it, Tony,"

"Dr. Barlow did say I needed exercise and to be involved in some other stuff besides work,"

"Two birds, one stone," She said cheerfully. "So you'll do it?"

_Do it for me._ "I guess,"

"Good," She replied contentedly.

_I'm here with you._


	13. And I Find Purpose

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for the fantastic response on the last chapter. I came home today and didn't stop smiling for five minutes. You're all amazing. Anyway, here's today's chapter. It's longer than usual, and a sweet chapter I think.**

**Tomorrow... Well, it should be interesting. I'll be posting twice, if it works out. So look forward to that.**

**Special thanks to gsr4ever and all my other fabulous friends from the forums and everyone else who has shown support in this story--you are amazing and I'm so blessed to have such awesome readers! **

**Anyway, enjoy!**Tony tossed the basketball to Jared. The other boys had gone home for dinner, but it was still light enough to play. They had just finished a four hour-long game, their best yet.

* * *

Jared made a free throw and Tony caught the ball casually. "So, Jared. I had this idea,"

"Yeah?" He said curiously.

"I know your coach is moving next week and I thought that maybe I'd coach your team after he leaves,"

"Hm,"

"That sound okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so. You talk to Coach Heath yet?"

Tony nodded. He had, last night, after thinking about his conversation with Abby earlier that day. He got the number from Jared and one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was Coach Tony. "Yeah, last night. He's cool with it," Tony made a basket. "So tell me, you think the other boys would be okay with that?"

Jared shrugged. "Sure,"

Tony looked at the boy quizzically. He was a good looking kid, probably the favorite of all the girls at his school. The other boys seemed to all but worship him, but he took it all in stride. He was quiet and humble, but he encouraged the players who didn't have the greatest skills. He was a strange one, that was for sure. "So Jared, tell me about your family. What are they like?"

"I dunno," He said apathetically. "My dad works a lot. My mom is a nurse, but she has the night shift so she's asleep all day,"

"I guess you're on your own a lot then, huh? No siblings?"

Jared nodded. "Nah. Dad's not a big fan of kids,"

"Well I'm sure he's a fan of you,"

Jared looked at him with a look that said, _"Yeah, right_." But all he said was, "Sure,"

"I was on my own a lot too. My dad was filthy rich, and my mom was a nut, but I was disinherited at twelve, so that kinda put a damper on things,"

"Yeah, I guess that would," Jared took a shot, followed by the sweet sound of a _swoosh_. "What do you do? Like, what's your job?"

"I work for NCIS. It's like cops for the Navy and Marine Corps,"

"So you catch bad guys and stuff, right? Is it cool?"

"Yeah, it is. And we've got a great team,"

"Team?"

"Yeah, kinda like in basketball. We've got a little of everything and everyone has a different part. You know the drill,"

Jared actually looked interested for once. "Tell me about them,"

Tony grinned. "Well there's six of us. There's Abby—you'd love her. She's kinda crazy and goth but she's the happiest person I know. And don't tell her I said this, but she's got a _ton_ of tattoos, some which I haven't even seen," Jared grinned back, the first time since Tony had met him. "Then we've got Tim, who is the best with computers. I don't understand half of what he says, but he's a real nice guy. And then there's Ducky. He's our medical examiner—he does the autopsies. He's from Scotland and is always telling these really long stories, but he's a really smart man. He always knows what to say,"

"Who's your boss?"

"Gibbs. Pretty quiet guy, unless he's mad, in which case, I either run or shut up. He gives us a head slap like this when we mess up," He demonstrated by giving himself a gentle headslap. "The coolest thing about him is that he can tell when you lie. Which is good for our jobs, but not when I come in late,"

Jared laughed a little as he dribbled the ball a little. He moved to make his free throw but stopped short and looked at Tony. "You said there were six. Who's the sixth?"

Tony smiled and fiddled with his watch for a second. "You seem very interested. Why?" Tony said, avoiding the question by taking the ball and making his own shot.

"Hey, I asked you first,"

Tony sighed a little and looked away. "My partner, Ziva. She died a few weeks ago,"

"Wow, I'm sorry… What was she like?"

Tony was slightly taken aback at the boy's response. Mature, like he was familiar with it, and the odd look in his eyes… "Ziva was… amazing. She was pretty intimidating, actually. She was a ninja. She kicked my butt all the time and we fought a lot, but it was… It was great," He said, the last part coming in very low and sad sounding.

"You miss her, huh?"

"More than anything," Tony chuckled a little after a moment. "I think she'd be pretty proud of me, actually,"

"Why?" Jared asked, his freckled face scrunching a little.

"She wanted me to do something with myself, you know? Get off my couch for once, I guess,"

"She sounds great,"

"She was," Tony checked his watch after noticing how dark it had grown. "Eight twenty-seven. You'd probably head home,"

"Yeah, I guess. See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here," He said, waving. "I'll be here."

* * *

Tony coached the team for the first time later that week. Dr. Barlow was overjoyed to find him so improved, and to be doing such "wonderful work" as she so enthusiastically put it. He had been getting decent sleep and eating substantial meals and seeing his friends all week, but only because he knew it'd get him out of this stupid program.

Tony kept her letter in his pocket at all times. He read it whenever he could, analyzing every work, the way her writing was so neat yet so feminine with a swoop here and an unncessecary curve there… He read it one day while lounging at his favorite coffee shop, and another time while in line at the grocery store. Reading it made him feel like she was there, beside him, grabbing at his arm to look over and see her again.

His days seemed to pass with the sad tune of a soft piano in the background, following him on the streets, pulling at him, narrating his heart. She had loved the piano. She had taken it as a girl, he remembered. And it had become a part of her. Sometimes he would watch her fingers tap on her desk, flowing with music that no one could hear but her. And there were those moments when she would get this far away look in her eye and almost smile, and then she would catch him watching her, and she would look away.

Oh, how he missed her. There was a time when they played the piano together.

"_Do you remember when we were locked in that container and you told me you used to take piano lessons? Well, I think you should start again. I could teach you. Who knows, maybe it could be fun."_

He had mentioned his previous experience with the piano, so many years ago. They had been locked in a shipping container with nothing to do but wait and try to figure out a way to get out. She had only been at NCIS for a few weeks, and they were just getting to know one another.

"_Were you any good?"_

"_Yeah… I was,"_

Then that summer, Gibbs quit, and he began coming to her house a few times a week. Sometimes she'd cook, sometimes they'd get pizza or Chinese. Sometimes they'd watch a movie, and then sometimes she taught him how to play the piano.

She had a black baby grand. It was a beautiful piano—elegant, perfectly tuned, thanks to Palmer… It was perfect for her. They started with reviewing the notes and the symbols, and simple nursery songs. He's protested to it at first, but he soon gave in. Soon they learned to play simple duets, and he learned more complicated songs, catching on quickly.

She was like that. Persuasive. Maybe it was due to her skills in interrogation, but maybe it was just because she was, well, Ziva.

Those days were perfect.

He hadn't played since that summer. It had stopped with Ziva was framed. Everything had changed. A few weeks later, Gibbs was back, and he was not longer the boss. He could deal with it—he loved working for Gibbs. But then there was Jeanne… He had started the mission that summer—first it was just "accidentally" bumping into her at her favorite coffee shop, then asking her to get a bite to eat, and then… It happened too fast. He didn't mean to fall in love with her. He didn't mean to leave Ziva. To lie to her. To the team.

And then it ended.

Every day since then, he wondered if things would be different if he hadn't taken the operation. Where he'd be with Ziva. He wondered if he would have ever taken that one step.

He lied to her, he kept it from her, and yet she stuck by him. She never left his side. Not even when Vance was sending blows towards him after Jenny died, she was beside him, taking them right along with him, voluntarily.

She was always there.

He owed her.

_I think you should start again._

Maybe he would.


	14. And I Might Be Who You Wanted

**A/N: Okay, don't shoot me. Today's chapter, I know, is very short. I'll hopefully add a second short one later, and then you'll understand why I did what I did because I really don't have a choice if I want to get this the right way, yes?**

**Anyway, enjoy it, as short as it may be. It's kind of bittersweet, actually.**

* * *

"Good game, guys. Awesome," Tony said, rounding up the boys on his team, _his _team, the Washington Junior Wizards. "Okay, so Scott, I want you to work on those three-throws—they're getting' a lot better, but you can always improve, right? Even me,"

"Especially you," One of the boys said, laughing.

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, thanks," They wrapped up their practice, going over different things they had worked on throughout the two hours they had spent working hard. After the group finished, they hung out for a few more minutes, resting on the grass, talking about basketball and then moving on to other things as they relaxed. One by one, the boys went home.

Tony stayed at the park for another hour. The sky had grown dark and the air was cool, but he continued to shoot some free-throws. For a while he thought about his team, replaying the words they shared and the laughter that made their stomachs ache. He smiled and laughed to the no ones around him.

And for the first time, he didn't think about her.

* * *

**Ouch.**

**Sad, isn't it?**

**But the story's far from over, so don't you even think that I'd end it here. That's lame.**

**Stay tuned.**


	15. And So We Weep

Somewhere far away a piano plays. The notes weep with the one who plays the keys. They crescendo with the deepening of an anger deep within.

And a million miles further, someone reaches the keys of a piano for the first time in a long time. And the notes wish with the one who plays. They crescendo with a heart of longing.

And the notes weep with the weepers.

* * *

**A/N: I've been waiting to post this one for a while.**

**Take from it what you might.**

**Enjoy. See you soon for a decent sized chapter. We're about half-way through, maybe less, maybe more. Thanks for taking this ride.**


	16. And These Fingers Play for You

**A/N: Hello my fabulous readers! Thanks for the amazing feedback lately—it's been, well, fabulous!**

**You won't get any clarity on the previous chapter for a little while, so get comfy. Today's chapter will bring another little mystery. **

**I updated my profile, inspired by Bravo My Lady Grace and dizzy – in – the izzy's great profiles. Mine can't compare, but it's not excessively long and the story of how I watched NCIS film and got to hang with the cast & crew is up, so if you have some time on your hands, you're welcome to take a look.**

**Confession: my birthday is next month and I'm terrified that I'll be forgotten. At my old church, my small group threw little surprises for everyone in our group on their birthdays, but I left that church before they ever got to give me a surprise. It sucks. I just wanted that one day to be special, you know, and I never got it. Now I'm at a new church and the girls in my group haven't exactly warmed up to me yet, but they've given the other girls little gifts on their birthdays this year, and I'm scared they'll forget. Part of me hopes my old and new groups will miraculously remember. If they do, I will cry. Publicly.**

**But I don't think they will.**

**Okay, just though I'd share that with 1.07k people tonight, because I just really needed to tell someone, as silly as it is.**

**So yeah. Enjoy your chapter!**

* * *

Tony hadn't expected his fingers to rest so comfortably on the keys of white and black. He hadn't expected them to dance so naturally upon the ivory.

He also hadn't expected to take to his piano teacher so well. Ms. Lia had silvery hair and lines of laughter and of tears on her face. Her sweet blue eyes encouraged with her sweet kind voice.

"I grew up in Romania. At the time, it was a Communist country and things were not going so well for my people. I began playing the piano at age three. They took me to a great many countries; Poland, France…I played for the kings and queens and dukes. I was awarded trophies for my talent, but the government took them. They threatened me and told me not to talk about the countries I saw, the freedom and peace I saw. They did not want the Romanians to know how opposed to communism other countries were. The entire country only had three TV channels. The government told the people that America was terrible, that it was dirty and that Romania was the best of countries," Ms. Lia said one day as she shuffled through pieces of music. Her accent was thick and often hard to understand, but she spoke in such a factual manner, detached though somehow, heartfelt. It was how Ziva had spoken so often.

"It was very difficult for me to see other countries thrive in such freedom. I could not even tell my family. When I was asked about the beautiful places I had seen, the answers I gave to be so, so generic. Then twelve years ago I came to America. I worked on a cruise ship for some time, then I moved here to Virginia to teach piano," she finished.

"Wow, what a story," Tony said in awe. He shifted on the piano seat. He had been taking lessons from her for four weeks now and neither had mentioned what he was so embarrassed to say. "I'm probably your oldest student,"

Ms. Lia looked up and searched his eyes, searched his face. She put down the papers. "In age, perhaps. But your heart is much more complicated. You are a child yet you have seen the tragedy few can imagine,"

Tony eyed her. "And why would you think that?"

She sighed just a little. It wasn't an impatient sigh, or a sigh of misunderstanding. It was a sigh of hopefulness. "The heart does not have words. It does not write with letters or symbols. Anthony, we are all poets. Our hearts sing like sunrises and cry like rainfall. We hope as we await the light of tomorrow's dawn. We weep as we see the thunder storm above us. Our hearts find us longing for the first ray and the first raindrop. Some just cannot find the words, though they are always there. The beats are important, yes, but you find your words in the notes," Tony just looked at her, unable to speak. "Perhaps you should play. Play with your heart," Tony turned to the piano hesitantly, his fingers resting upon the keys. "Close your eyes and play,"

Tony closed his eyes, and began to play. The song he found in his heart was bittersweet. Though the notes were high and soft, they sang a song of a broken heart, of longing, and of trying. He played for several minutes, not noticing the tears that had fallen on the keys. Nothing, no one, dared interrupt. The phones didn't ring, the lawn mowers didn't gravel, and even the birds didn't sing.

There was nothing but the soft heart that wrote the words into notes.

Finally, he ended. He didn't look at Ms. Liana, but instead clasped his hands in his lap. "I guess you were right,"

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her. "I wish I was not,"

Tony smiled sadly. "Me too,"

* * *

Abby and Gibbs sat on the bleachers in a crowded gym. Tony was coaching his first basketball game with his team, and they had come in moral support. McGee was off getting coffee, a large Caf-Pow, and a diet cola, as well as a variety of seriously artery-clogging snacks.

Tony was on the other side of the gym, smiling and laughing with his team, coaching them. The Junior Wizards were winning and had been the entire game. He was as enthusiastic as ever, yet somehow managed to find a way to make them respect him. Tony high-fived one of the boys as he sent another out onto the court.

"He looks really happy," Abby commented to Gibbs, smiling.

"He is," Gibbs agreed.

Abby looked at Gibbs and pursed her red lips in thought, her expression then falling to a small wave of sadness. "You think he'll ever date again?"

"It's only been two months, Abs. Give him some time,"

"I know," She admitted.

"He'll date again, sure," He finally answered her question. Abby continued looking at him. "Any questions?"

"You think he'll ever move on?"

This struck a chord in his heart, reverberating with an aching sigh somewhere within. He looked over at Tony. "No, I don't think he will," Gibbs said, his mind wandering away.

* * *

The group sat around the table, Gibbs, McGee, Abby, and Tony, eating away at the two large pizzas they had ordered in celebration of Tony's first win. The team was celebrating at one of the boy's houses, complete with a boatload of sugar and caffeine.

They sat at the table, laughing and talking as usual. It felt so normal, so right, excepting the fifth chair at the round table, empty and silent though it screamed of an unforgotten something.

"The team was awesome tonight, Tony," Abby commented.

"They kicked butt," McGee agreed, shrugging happily.

"Thanks, guys,"

"It reminded me of a young boy I knew when I was in my fifth year. Basketball was all he could talk about…" Ducky began to ramble. They let him, smiling at him patiently, slowly losing themselves in their thoughts.

Tony's eyes drifted to the chair across from him. No tears welled in his eyes, no sighs escaped his mouth. He simply looked at him, the ghost of a familiar half-smile appearing on his face, eyes soft with memories. For the first time all day, he thought about her. For the first time, no ache hurt his heart as he thought about her.

And yet, the remembrance of her smile and her support was burned into his mind.

And it always would be.


	17. And I'll Be Back

**A/N: Hey. Here's today's chapter.**

**Every mystery is a mystery because of subtle inconsistencies. Today, we'll look at a couple of them. We begin where we left off last time, at the celebration dinner after Tony's first game. Today's chapter is kind of a lot to chew, but here's where things begin to take on some speed again.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and early birthday wishes. It's really nice knowing that there are so many really kind, wonderful people here. I love you guys!**

* * *

A waitress walked over to the table, a pizza box in her hand. She grinned at Tony and handed it to him.

"For you,"

"I didn't order anymore pizza," He said, trying to hand it back.

She pushed it gently towards him. "I know. It's from someone at the bar," She said, checking her notepad.

Tony glanced over to the bar. A few people sat, lost in their own conversations. "Do you know who?" He said, trying to push her for an answer as he so often did in interrogations, though admittedly kinder this round.

"Nope. I was just told to give the order to you. Extra meat, extra cheese, extra grease,"

Tony raised his eyebrows as he opened the box and checked the pizza inside. "Wow, good guess,"

"Hm?"

"It's my favorite," He explained.

"Oh, well, that's great. Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay?"

"Yeah sure, no problem," Tony said, gazing at the pizza. He wasn't fascinated by the dough-and-dairy delight in his hands, but at the wonder that it was there at all. He looked over at the bar once more, not finding anyone he recognized.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finally said.

Tony shook his head as if he was waking up from falling asleep at his desk. "No, I'm good," He said. "I'm good."

* * *

He walked into his apartment that night, box of pizza in hand. He put it in the refrigerator, unable to eat anything more. He leaned against the counter and looked out over his living room. It was empty and quiet, with only the hum of the appliances and roll-by of the cars outside his window. His dining table was covered in papers and other tid-bits. He sighed and decided to go through them, knowing he'd be unable to sleep for a couple more hours.

"Now's as good a time as any, I guess," He mumbled and walked over to the table, grabbing a trash bag on the way. For the next hour he went through the stacks mindlessly, throwing out the trash and putting the rest in a place where he'd he be able to organize them. The table was finally clean, and he began to place the papers where they belonged. He walked over to his filing cabinet and finally found a file of case notes from the summer Gibbs was gone. He pulled it open and was about to place some papers inside when something caught his eye. He pulled it out and somehow found his way to a place on the ground, leaning against the file cabinet.

It was sheet music. A piano piece Ziva had been teaching him that summer, so long ago. It had originally been a guitar-led song, but she wrote the piano music to it. She had never told him that, but she didn't need to.

It was in her fingertips, in the way she sang the words with a quiet passion, getting lost in it. She taught him how to play it. They would practice it for what felt like hours. She would sing the harmony and he would sing the melody, their voices working together in the most perfect connection.

He could hear their voices as he read the music, smiling at the line he had always had trouble with. He never got to conquer it before their lessons were over. Tony glanced over to the wall. Against it leaned his electric piano. He had bought it when she was teaching him how to play, and hadn't used it since.

For the next three hours he practiced the song again, keeping the volume low enough for his neighbors' satisfaction. Again and again he played, working through each note until it reached perfection.

That night, he fell asleep with a smile upon his lips.

* * *

The next two weeks passed quickly. Tony played basketball with his team, had lunch with Abby every day, and took extra piano lessons with Ms. Lia, practicing in his spare time. He was happy. He was breathing.

Now the time had come for his final follow-up with Doctor Barlow to determine whether or not he was mentally fit to return to work. He entered her office confidently, chatting with the receptionist for a moment before being allowed to go in.

"Agent DiNozzo," she said, smiling as she shook his head.

"Morning," he greeted her with his charming grin clear upon his face.

"Have a seat," She gestured to the couch behind him. They sat down in their respective seats, her usual notepad in hand. They had met once a week for the past five weeks as agreed, and Tony had followed her directions to the T. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, believing the words he was saying for the first time in a long time.

"Tell me more," she encouraged him.

"Well I've been getting decent sleep and eating just fine. Coaching a basketball team now and taking piano lessons. Having lunch with my friends, that sort of thing. So I'm good,"

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, taking notes. "So today I'll be asking some questions to see if you can go back to work—sound good?"

"Yep," he said, leaning back into the couch.

"Tell me about Ziva," she said tentatively, watching his reaction.

Tony's gaze drifted off for a moment, a small smile on his face. "Ziva was my partner for five years, and my best friend. I had her back and she had mine. She was caring and she felt a lot more than she let on. She tried to hide her emotions, but I always knew," Tony chuckled. "She butchered American idioms and kicked my butt like no one else could, not even Gibbs. We bantered and joked and it was just… perfect,"

"Tell me about the day Ziva died,"

Tony nodded a little, both acknowledging and remembering. "She had gone to a witness's house to check it out. She was gone for two hours and we couldn't contact her. We tracked her cell phone and went to its location. Her car was abandoned. She wasn't anywhere to be found. But we did find her badge, and a pool," he said, his brow furrowing as he let his words fade.

"A pool?"

"No, a pool. A pool of blood. No body, just the blood," he said, realizing. Suddenly, Tony stood and pulled out his cell phone. "We'll have to reschedule, Doctor Barlow. I've got something to do," he called, running out of her offices.

* * *

Tony was at the Navy Yard in a matter of minutes, defeating Ziva's record and almost getting into as many wrecks. He entered the Navy Yard and NCIS HQ, having called Gibbs to meet him to get him in, as his badge and ID had been confiscated for the time being.

"What's this all about, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finally asked as they entered the squadroom from the stairs. Tony had refused to wait for the elevator and had instead dashed up the stairwell.

"A pool of blood," He said, walking into the bullpen. McGee was sitting at his desk. He smiled at Tony and was about to speak. "Another time, Probie. Can you pull up those crime scene photos from Ziva's case? The ones we took of the blood,"

"Sure," McGee said, following his request. The photo emerged on the plasma quickly.

"Now, why was there a pool of blood?"

"She bled out,"

"No, no way," Tony said. "If she bled out, we would have found her body,"

"They moved it," McGee said, confused. "Not unusual,"

"If they had an urgent enough reason to move her body, then why would they give her the chance to bleed out? It would have taken a while to let her bleed that much. And we know she never went inside Holt's house—we didn't find her fingerprints or DNA on the door,"

"We didn't find any blood spatter either," McGee pointed out.

Gibbs stared at the screen, feeling slightly stupid for having missed it, and yet proud of Tony for having caught it. "You're right,"

"So why leave her badge?"

"It was a message," Tony said.

"Message?" McGee said, totally lost.

"They wanted us to think that, without a doubt, that she was dead," Gibbs said.

Tony just stared at the screen. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't even blink. The entire squadroom had seemed to be overwhelmed in silence as they watched the MCRT members in astonishment. An hour seemed to pass before Tony turned around to the hushed room, confused eyes scanning the other agents in a panorama before finally landing on Gibbs.

"She's alive," he said in a voice filled with disbelief, shock, and slowly it transformed to an unspeakable joy. "She's alive."

* * *

**Yeah, I know.**

**I'm happy too! I've been wanting to say something for a while now. But before you jump to conclusions... Well, don't. : )**

**The song mentioned in this chapter is **_**Awake**_** by Secondhand Serenade. They lyrics fit this chapter, this whole story even, very well. Here's a couple of lines.**

"_**And if it's a hero you want, I can save you. Just stay here. Your whispers are priceless. Your breathe, it is dear. So please stay near... You're changing me. You're changing me. You showed me how to live."**_

**So yeah. Don't forget to review.**


	18. And I'll Never Give Up On You

**A/N: Wow, you guys really outdid yourselves on the last chapter. 19 reviews! That's more reviews than on any other chapter, but then again, I got 300 visitors, and only 19 reviews? Not to push but… Oh well, whatever. I don't do this for reviews anyway, but it is encouraging.**

**Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter—so did I!**

**I woke up this morning and briefly thought about how I'd end the story (I already know). But then I started fell asleep and dreaming it, and the dream was a horrid ending in comparison. I'm stoked for the ending to this story, or at least to this particular part of the plot.**

**Here's today's chapter. I wasn't going to give you this much, but hey, you deserve it. I'm really excited for what we've got in store! I think you guys are really gonna dig it… I've never said that phrase before…**

* * *

McGee sat at his desk typing furiously. Abby's arms were wrapped around McGee's shoulders, but she was shaking due to the sudden burst in adrenaline combined with the already caffeine-high.

"Abby, I can't work with you like this," he finally said.

She left him and began to pace in the bullpen. "Alright fine, I just can't believe Ziva might actually be alive!"

"You can't believe it?"

"No, I just mean—well, it's not that I ever believed she was dead, it's just that…." Abby sighed as she just looked at Tim, who stared knowingly back at her. "It's been over two months, Timmy," she said simply.

McGee gave a small half-smile. "I know, Abby,"

She took a deep breath and moved on, walking back over to him and looking over his shoulder. "Where's Tony and Gibbs?"

"Talking with Vance,"

Abby smirked, certain that it was much more than "talking." "How'd he find out? He's been in conferences all day, uninterrupted,"

"He had a program written to alert him every time the case files were accessed and sent to his phone,"

"It sucks that he's so good with a computer," Abby commented, though she was smiling as she shook her head. "And what are _you_ doing?"

"Searching for anomalies in the files while copying the data to my USB,"

"Multi-tasking. I like it,"

"Shouldn't you be doing something before Vance makes us stop?"

"You really think he'll do that?" Abby shrugged as he gave her a look. "Well I am. I'm redoing the DNA test and doing a full tox-screen,"

"That'll take like fourteen hours, Abby,"

"Yeah, but it's a step up from where we are now,"

McGee shrugged in agreement. "Isn't there something else you could be doing?"

"Fine, fine," she said, walking away. "I probably could be doing something anyway…"

* * *

"I don't know where to begin," Vance said after Tony explained what they had found out. "You broke protocol, defied my direct orders, endangered our international relations with Mossad and more importantly, Israel. Miss Scuito is no doubt rerunning the evidence, and I suspect McGee is going through the files too. Are you asking to lose your job, Agent DiNozzo? Because that certainly won't be a problem now,"

"Are you firing me?" Tony asked, his voice deep and serious. Gibbs stood beside him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Unless you can give me a good reason why I shouldn't,"

Tony sighed just a little. "Officer David was my partner, sir. Partners… Partners are always partners, sir, and I'm sure you know that. When she died, a part of me died, and I was sure I would. And I almost did. But then I realized," Tony's voice softened as he remembered the presence of her letter in his pocket, worn from reading. "I realized she wouldn't want me to let that happen, and she definitely wouldn't want me to just stop living. The truth is, sir, she changed me. She saved my life. And I owe it to her to save hers," Vance continued to watch him, not blinking. "I know I shouldn't have broken the rules, Director. But she was my partner. And if she's alive she still is. And I don't abandon my partners. Wouldn't you do the same for your partner?"

Vance studied Tony's face. The Special Agent wasn't backing down. Vance sighed and touched some papers on his desk absentmindedly, then looked back up at the pair. _Like father, like son_, he thought. "You'd better be right then, Agent DiNozzo,"

"I am, sir," he said.

"Alright then,"

"So I can go back to work?"

"Unofficially. We'll have to reschedule your evals,"

"When this is over," Tony said.

"When this is over," Vance agreed.

Tony and Gibbs nodded to Vance and walked out past Cynthia who had been slightly startled to see them emerge without any bruises on their faces or tears on their clothes. Shutting the door as they entered the hallway, Tony stopped.

"Boss, why didn't you say anything? You didn't say a word the entire time,"

"Didn't need to,"

"Why?"

"It's how I trained you, DiNozzo,"

"To never apologize,"

"To never desert your partner," Gibbs corrected. "At the end of the day,"

"They're all you've got," Tony finished knowingly. Gibbs gave him a small nod, his eyes speaking more than the words that were never said.

_I'm here with you._

"So what do we do now?" Tony asked.

"We find her. Check on Abby, I'll meet you down there in ten minutes," he replied, walking away, likely heading out for coffee.

"On it," Tony said, walking to the elevator. He entered it as a group left.

Tony stood in the elevator, staring at the doors as they closed, leaving him alone. It _ding!_ed and he shut it off. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around, remembering.

_I'm tired of pretending._ For once, the silence wasn't a thousand piercing bullets.

For once, the memory didn't bring that same familiar pain. It was new, it was different.

And for once, his heart was accompanied not by the ache of missing her, but with the hope that he would get a second chance.

And then it hit him.

"_Ah, come on, Boss, I was up really late and--" He began to complain._

"_Hot date?" Ziva said slyly, but her eyes spoke something else._

"_No," Tony corrected her. "I watched the Titanic. It's a long one,"_

"_Most cruise liners are," She said, missing the point. Ziva stood. She walked out in front of her desk, knife still in her hand. "I will go," she volunteered before sending a smirk Tony's way. "I have been sitting at my desk far too long this morning," She explained as Gibbs stared at her strangely. Finally, he nodded, and she absentmindedly set it on Tony's desk. She grabbed her things and headed toward the elevator. "I'll be back," She called cheerily, happy to get out of the building._

Tony flipped the emergency elevator button urgently, willing the elevator to go faster.

_I'll be back._

* * *

Abby was working in her lab as usual, only today it wasn't so unusual. Her overly-loud music was playing and she was slurping a Caf-Pow as she worked, but today there was a new sense of urgency, of need.

Tony walked into her lab only to be surprised by a huge bear hug encompassing him, thanks to the resident goth.

"She's alive! She's alive!" She cried happily into his shoulder.

He pulled away and walked to her screen, staring at it. "You have proof?"

"No, not yet, but McGee told me everything and there's no way she's dead. At least, she didn't die then,"

"What about the tox-screen or the DNA?"

"Won't know for another twelve hours at least—maybe more, maybe less," Tony nodded, obviously a bit disappointed.

Gibbs walked in then, coffee and Caf-Pow in hand. "Whatdya got, Abs?"

"Nothing yet. Still processing. You know, I could probably buy a Caf-Pow factory with the number of times people have asked me that today, not to mention the number of times people have asked me that in the entire time I've been--"

"Gibbs, she said she'd be back," Tony said, unable to wait any longer. Abby turned back to her screens and began to type, but was still visibly paying attention to their conversation. McGee walked into the lab, joining the group.

"What?"

"The day she left, she volunteered to leave. She practically forced you to let her leave," Gibbs gave him a look. "Not that anyone can force you to do anything, Boss, but my point is, she's the one who decided to leave. I didn't think anything of it, but Gibbs, when she was leaving, she said, 'I'll be back,'"

"You think she knew?"

"I think she set herself up,"

Gibbs looked at Tony for a moment, studying his face. "So do I,"

"But why would she do that?" Abby piped up, face still intent on her desktop. "Do you think she was in trouble?"

"Why didn't come to us?" Tony asked. _Why didn't she come to me?_ Both Abby and Gibbs heard the truth in his words. His heart fell for a moment and he looked away, a serious expression upon his face.

Gibbs sighed a little. "Go home, Tony,"

"What if Ziva _is_ in trouble? What if she needs us?"

"She's been gone almost two months. What's the first thing you need to know about Ziva?"

"She can take care of herself," Tony said.

"That's right. Head home, get some sleep,"

After a few more minutes of arguing and excused, Tony left for home.

Abby turned to Gibbs. "This sucks,"

"I know," Gibbs said.

Abby sighed and rolled her eyes in frustration with the whole matter. "Do you really think she's alive?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense,"

"Rule number 2: never assume. Always double check,"

"And I will,"

Abby gave a half-smile, her eyes still weary though not tired. "I know, Gibbs. You'll save her. You always do,"

Gibbs looked away and shrugged a little. "Not always, Abs,"

"But you will this time," She said with soft certainty.


	19. And I'll Find You

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A/N: Hey everyone! Today's chapter is extra long, just because. Okay, well, partly because we just passed 200 reviews! Thank you so much! But also because I love you all. This chapter includes a little foreshadow and a little mystery and a whole lot of suggestion. Kind of. Have fun!

* * *

It was three AM when she called. Tony hadn't been able to sleep, and instead, found a copy of _Moby Dick_ that McGee had given him his first year at NCIS for Christmas. He had never read it, but he'd seen the movie. Now he was a hundred-fifty pages in, and beginning to realize why Ziva had read so much.

It was the vibrating that startled him. He hadn't heard his home phone ring, so lost within the pages now, but the sudden movement of his cell phone on the glass of his coffee table. He leaned over and picked it up, replacing it with his book.

"DiNozzo," He answered.

"Tony, I've got your results," Abby said. "Figured you'd be awake,"

"What'dya got, Abs?"

"You were right. I found evidence that the blood had been frozen first,"

"Frozen?"

"Yep, like a TV dinner,"

"So she _was_ faking her death," he said, his voice barely audible.

"She's alive, Tony. Just like you thought,"

"I'm coming in," he said, standing and looking around for his shoes.

"No, Tony, don't. You need to sleep, like Gibbs said,"

"Abby, my partner is alive. I thought she was dead and now I know she's alive and she probably needs my help and you guys expect me to _sleep_?" Tony finally spotted his shoes and scrambled to put them on, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry.

"She would understand. She _does_ understand,"

"How do you know?"

"Ziva put you before herself every day she was at NCIS. Even when you were undercover and she knew you were dating someone, she didn't try to stop you. You kept the truth from her and it sucked, but she didn't say anything. She always made sure you were happy, even if it made her miserable. She'd understand if you got a few hours of sleep,"

Tony sighed and sat back down on his couch. "Abby," he began.

"No, Tony, you go to sleep, in your bed. She'll need you at your best tomorrow,"

"I was going to say, 'Thank you.' You're right, I guess,"

"You know I am," He could hear her sweet smile, lined with bright red lipstick on the other side of the phone.

"You going to get some sleep too?" He asked, suddenly realizing that he made her stay up.

"You bet,"

"I owe you a Caf-Pow,"

"Just one?" She said, her grin audible.

"'Night, Abby,"

"See you tomorrow,"

He closed his phone and smiled to himself, knowing that for once, he _would_ actually sleep tonight.

_I'll be back_.

* * *

Tony was in the squadroom at six AM the next morning. For now, it was just him and the janitor, and he liked it that way. The sun had just begun to rise over the Washington Naval Yard, the shine reflecting on the water of the Potomac before into the squadroom, lighting it up sweetly.

Tony had been going through Ziva's bank records but saw nothing unusual. It was full of necessities, seeing as Ziva had never been one to indulge impulse buys as he was, so accustomed to doing.

After checking back for nearly a year and finding nothing, her moved to her phone records. He knew McGee had checked them the day before—the trashcan full of coffee cups proved it.

He read through the list quickly at first, skimming through the phone calls she made and received in the three last weeks before her disappearance. He recognized several numbers—she called him twenty-seven times that week, McGee fourteen, Gibbs nine, the requisition office once, and a number of witness and suspects from Holt's case. Nothing out of the ordinary, but the number of times she called him made him smile.

It was the restricted number that had called Ziva the morning she disappeared that piqued his curiosity. The encryption was beyond his low level of skills. He glanced over at McGee's still empty desk. He glanced at the time—7:02 AM. He glanced at the elevator, still silent. He sighed and minimized the window. He got up and ran a hand through his hair, walking towards the window.

"I'm gonna find you, Zi, I promise," He whispered quietly.

"Tony?" McGee's voice called from behind him. Tony turned around. McGee stood there, backpack slung over his shoulder, a confused expression on his face.

"Yeah?" Tony finally replied.

"Who you talkin' to?"

"No one, Probie. Hey, I have a job for you," Tony said, motioning to his computer. McGee set his things down at his own desk and met Tony at the senior agent's computer. "Found this phone number on Ziva's phone records. Day she disappeared. It's restricted, but we should be able to have access to it anyway, right?"

McGee furrowed his eyebrows and began to type, sending the information to his computer. He sat down at his desk and began to type again, pulling up the page from Tony's computer. "Yeah, we should," He said. "I'll have to run it through a program down at Abby's," He said, typing some more and hurrying down stairs to the lab.

Gibbs walked in then, two cups of coffee in hand. He handed one to Tony.

"You're late, Boss," Tony said, though he motioned a thanks for the coffee.

"No I'm not,"

"You're usually here at like what, six?"

"Had something I needed to do," Gibbs said, sitting down at his desk, turning on the computer he so rarely touched.

"The coffee?"

"Nah," He held up a tag—a visitor's tag from the FBI.

"Fornell?"

"Yeah,"

"What'd you talk to him about?"

"Known foreign operatives,"

"Known foreign operatives?" Tony said, confused.

"Yeah,"

"You think that might have something to do with Ziva?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Gut feeling,"

"And why's that?"

Gibbs stood. "It was clean, Tony. The whole thing. Inconsistent, but clean,"

"No prints, no encriminating evidence," Tony said.

"No mistakes," Gibbs finished.

"And criminals make mistakes,"

"That's right,"

"So do you have any suspects?"

"Not yet," He said. He dug through his pocket and produced a USB. "Fornell put the profiles of a dozen foreign operatives on this thing,"

"Filing through it. On it, Boss," Tony said, taking it to his desk.

Gibbs watched him for a moment. Tony hadn't had that determined look in his eyes for months. He had been happy enough, he guessed, but he hadn't returned to normal. This was a step.

* * *

Three hours later, Tony had gone through the profiles ten times each, studying every word, analyzing it for any possible clue.

Across from him, McGee sat, doing some techie thing on his computer. Tony sighed and crumpled up a sheet of old paper. He aimed and took his shot; the ball of paper struck McGee's head perfectly. He looked over at Tony who had swiveled in his desk chair towards the junior field agent, arms crossed and eyes searching the oblivion before him.

"What?"

"Why'd they take her?"

"Ziva?"

"No, Probie. I meant your dog. _Of course_ I meant Ziva," He said sarcastically. _Guess I never made a full comeback… My jokes are seriously sucking_, he thought to himself.

"What makes you think they took her? She did set herself up,"

"It takes a second person to draw blood. And there's no way Ziva planted the bomb in my car,"

"Sounds like she had an accomplice,"

"Or she was coerced," Tony shot back.

"Ziva has never been coerced into anything,"

"They're called orders, Tony,"

"_They're called orders, Tony. You may not like them, but you follow them. That's why they they're called 'orders',"_

Tony shut his eyes at the memory and ran a head through his hair. "She wouldn't do anything she didn't absolutely have to do,"

"Maybe they didn't give her a choice. Threatened her life or her father's life. He's the only living relative she has left,"

"She has her Aunt Nettie," Tony murmured.

"Hm?"

"Nevermind. But no, there's no way they'd be able to get to her father. He's the freakin' Director of Mossad. I can't even sneeze within a twenty mile radius of him,"

"The CIA can,"

Tony glared at McGee. He rubbed his eyes. "So why? Why'd she just pick up and leave? Where is she now?"

"Hostage?"

"No ransom requests,"

"Political statement?"

"There would have been a video, a public statement, something,"

"Maybe they want to get to you through her," McGee suggested.

Tony eyed him. "You think?"

"No," McGee said, and Tony let out a silent breath of relief. "They would have made demands,"

"Good thinking, Probie," Tony said and let his gaze drift away.

"Maybe Ziva knew something,"

"Something they didn't want anyone else to know," Tony said thoughtfully, processing the idea.

"Intel gets passed through her all the time,"

"So it could be anyone," Tony said, his heart falling.

"So where do we start?"

"With highly sensitive information," Gibbs said, walking through the squadroom. "We contact her contacts here and at Mossad,"

"If there was something highly sensitive she knew about here, shouldn't we be dead or captured too?" Tony asked.

"Someone did try and blow up your car,"

"That was clean too," Gibbs commented.

"Pros," McGee said, nodding in agreement.

"Pros," Tony repeated, thinking. "If you can excuse the inconsistent pool of blood and a car left in shrapnel,"

"Careless pros?" McGee modified.

Gibbs shook his head. "This was planned,"

"So… they weren't pros?" McGee said, trying to catch up.

"It doesn't make any sense," Tony said, his voice filled with confusion. He rested his head in his hand, elbow propped up on his desk.

"Too bad Ziva's not here to shed some light on this," McGee commented.

_I'm here with you._

_I'll be back._

_I'm here with you._

Tony's head shot up. "I'll be back," He whispered.

"What?" McGee asked.

Tony glanced at the other two agents. Gibbs was leaning up against his desk, eyes expectant. "She said she'd be back, right?"

"Yeah," Tim said slowly.

"And we know she set herself up,"

"Yeah,"

Tony sighed and looked around restlessly. He stood and gathered his things quickly. "I'll be back," he said as he walked out of the squadroom, pace hurried.

"Where's he goin'?"

"Said he'd be back," Gibbs reminded him.

"Just like Ziva,"

"Just like Ziva," Gibbs agreed.

* * *

**Any thoughts on what's going to happen? Any ideas? I'd love to hear! Don't forget to review!!**


	20. And You Knew

**A/N: Hi! Thanks for all the amazing reviews lately—it always puts a smile on my face to turn on my computer in the morning to find all these lovely words to read. Thank you thank you thank you!**

**Today's chapter is short, I know, but it's pretty big. Sort of. Well, you'll see.**

**Chapter 20! Can you believe it?**

* * *

He approached the premises silently, shoes making no sound, not even breathing for fear of arousing suspicion. Picking the lock wasn't difficult, and judging from the small scrapes on the metal, it had been picked before.

He entered the apartment, carefully closing the door behind him. He looked around. Nothing had changed.

Tony had half-hoped to find Ziva there that night. It was a hope he had shut out since the day she went missing, finding her in her own apartment, waiting for him. He had even been tempted to call her. But each time he began to make an effort, his fear of not hearing her voice and the supposed truth of her death being confirmed took over. And so he never called.

He wasn't sure why it was he went to her apartment that night. Fingering the familiar black baby grand piano as he walked through her apartment, dark with the song of night, he remembered those days. He glanced at the small piano book on the piano. It was the same song they had learned all those years ago. He smiled and continued walking through.

Tony didn't understand why Eli had never ordered Ziva's personal belongings to be shipped back to Israel. Then again, he didn't understand Eli at all.

Tony looked around the apartment, lit by the bright light of the moon outside her large window. He breathed in the air—he swore it still smelled like her. All was neat, each item perfectly placed. A flat screen TV hung on one wall. He smiled to himself. He had convinced her to buy a TV and order cable. He liked to think of it as one of his few great achievements in life. A vase sat on the dining table, lilies long wilted and water green with mold. He glanced in the kitchen. The dishes were stowed behind the glass of the cabinets, the sink empty and sparkling. The counters were clean of dirt, grime, and junk mail. He checked the trash—it was emptied.

"You knew you weren't coming back," He whispered quietly, hoping some how she might hear him. The side tables and coffee tables were nearly bare, aside from an old photo of three children, likely Ziva, Ari, and Tali. Tony looked beside it. A second frame held a familiar photo of the team. _The meshing of two lives_. Two large bookcases stood against a wall, the shelves completely covered in books, ordered by subject, then author. So like her.

Tony walked down her hallway, glancing in the bathroom. His investigator instincts took over as he checked inside the cabinet, ignoring the feeling of invading her privacy. It was still full, much to his surprise, toothbrush sitting beside a bottle of toothpaste. It was still mostly full.

He walked into her bedroom. It was uncannily feminine, a modern four-poster bed leaning against the wall with a simple cream canopy, sheer and hinting of her exotic past. A dresser stood in the corner. Opening a drawer, he found it half-empty, a favorite shirt of his left behind. He didn't need to check the others.

A small writing desk sat in the corner, free of any papers. A small jar held a few pens, but nothing more than that occupied the desk. Tony turned around and looked about the room, finally finding what he had been looking for.

On her nightstand was a book. Knowing Ziva, that wouldn't have been unordinary—reading was her favorite hobby, one that occupied most of her time off-duty. The apartment, however, was inconsistent. The dishes were clean and the trash was empty, but half of her clothes and her toothbrush were still there. The entire apartment had been almost purified, nothing amiss or laying about.

Tony picked up the book and sat on the bed. He flipped through the pages, finally finding one that was almost blank, only a couple of lines at the top of the page. On the rest of the page, he found her.

* * *

_Dear Tony,_

_I knew you would be the one to find this. If anyone would be so determined to find me, it would be you. My partner. My best friend._

_I know everyone thinks I am dead. I am so sorry. But I did what I had to do. I cannot explain, not in here. I did not want to leave. I just could not stay._

_You get orders, Tony. You may not like them, but you follow them. That is why they are called "orders."_

_I am safe for the time being. You do not need to be concerned about the amount of time that has passed since I left._

_Do you remember the case we had so long ago, with that little boy—what was his name? I had only been with NCIS for a matter of months. I remember asking that morning if NCIS always responded to missing persons' cases so quickly. Carson. That was his name. Carson had called us, though. He called. His father worked for the Navy, and he disappeared at that amusement park, leaving his little boy all alone to find us. At first, I thought that his father had left of his own accord, have cleared out his bank account and accessed the Honor Code system. I was the only one who believed it, and it frustrated me. But then I learned that I was wrong. Carson's father had been framed and coerced into committing treason. It wasn't him. I know that now._

_I know you will find me, Tony._

_I'll be back, yes?_

_--Ziva_

Tony set the book down and smiled.

At that moment, a loud _Bang!_ sounded from the other room. It was the distinct sound of a door being broken down. Tony stood and unholstered his gun.

"NCIS! Federal agent!" He called out, slowly making his way to the door that led to the hallway. He listened for footsteps, but heard nothing. Suddenly, the shooter appeared at the end of the hallway, gun aimed.

Five shots rang out and only silence followed.


	21. And It May Become Clear

**A/N: Wow, such amazing response for the last chapter. Thank you so much!**

**You all did your job too, by correcting me—I now know the kid from Honor Code was **_**Zach**_** and Carson was from Lost and Found. Sorry! But honestly, this is proof of your wonderfulness, so if you caught it, you should be proud. And I learned my lesson—rule number 2: never assume, always double check. I am now going to go check to make sure that's rule number 2… Nope, it's number 3. See? I'm learning, thanks to you.**

**Annnyway. Here's today's chapter. Some things will make more sense today, and a question or two may be answered, but in true NCIS style (I learn from Shane Brennan), you may have to wait until things are **_**really**_** clear.**

**Oh, and did I leave you all without any break lines for the last chapter? So sorry! I'll go check and fix.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony leaned up against the plastered wall of Ziva's hallway, breathing heavily, beads of sweat moistening his forehead. He had barely missed two bullets as he fired three of his own, knocking down the shooter before him. He was almost surprised to find his gun still in his hands as he made his way to the shooter. Tony kicked away the shooter's gun and stared intently at the face before him. It was nondescript, though his olive skin and dark hair and distinct Middle Eastern features suggested such a background.

Tony sighed and pulled out his cell phone and dialed speed dial 1. "Hey, Boss," He answered.

* * *

Tony stood in the apartment building hallway, several feet down the hall from Ziva's apartment. Inside, McGee and Levin were photographing the crime scene and collecting evidence. Law enforcement personnel had swarmed the building almost immediately after the incident, Gibbs practically tailing them with his team, followed by a quick stand down for jurisdiction. Ducky and Palmer had arrived only minutes ago, and Gibbs was now questioning Tony.

"Why'd you come here, DiNozzo?" He finally asked.

Tony shrugged, but his eyes were certain. "Gut feeling,"

"You thought you'd find her here?"

"I did," He said. He nodded towards the apartment. "You check out that book yet?"

"Not yet,"

"Ziva left me a note,"

"A note?"

"Said she knew I'd come. Said she was okay for right now,"

"And?" Gibbs prodded, knowing there was more.

"Remember that case we had a few years back, with that kid, Zach, and his missing dad?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said, remembering his affection for the little boy, mature beyond his years.

"Ziva wrote about it,"

"What'd she have to say?"

"Ziva has better memory than anyone I've ever met, but in her letter, she called Zach, 'Carson,'" It felt incredible to use her name in the present tense for the first time in so long.

"Carson was the kid whose dad kidnapped him," Gibbs recalled.

"Yeah, and he was nearly convicted by a couple of Metro PD cops when they planted evidence,"

"Planted evidence," Gibbs repeated. "The scene at Holt's house. He was set up. So was she,"

Tony nodded. "And that's not all. She told me about how she thought Carson's, or, well, Zach's dad had abandoned him for money or whatever, but then she realized he was coerced into leaving,"

"She's talking about herself,"

"She was coerced, Boss," Tony confirmed.

Gibbs sighed and looked around. "We still have a lot of missing pieces, DiNozzo, like _why_ she left. The note say that too?"

"Nope,"

"Then what are we supposed to do? Wait for her to suddenly reappear with the answers?"

"Ziva said she knew I'd find her,"

"She wants you to look?"

"She left clues,"

"Clues," Gibbs repeated skeptically. "This isn't one of your movies, DiNozzo,"

"Gibbs, the dishes were all put away but she left her toothbrush. Half her clothes are missing but the trash was taken out. Then there was the name switch with Carson and Zach. Ahe volunteered to pick up Holt. She was impatient all morning, like she was waiting for something,"

"You think she knew it was coming,"

"That blood, it was frozen first. She had time to plan this, but she didn't know exactly when _this_ would be,"

"They called her that morning,"

"It had to be the restricted number, the one we couldn't break," Tony agreed. "McGee's still running it through his program thingy,"

"The clothes?"

"My guess is she knew she'd be somewhere where she'd need clothes but could replace her toothbrush. The overachiever she is, she probably did the dishes and trash so it wouldn't stink up the place,"

"Smart kid," Gibbs commented.

"Yeah," Tony agreed.

"She leave any other 'clues?'"

"The place was clean, Gibbs. Like, really clean. Books were organized in this psycho order. Nothing was left lying around, except for the book,"

"And this," McGee said, appearing in the hallway, an evidence bag in his hand. It was the song book from the piano.

"Music?" Gibbs said, his brow furrowing impossibly more.

Tony sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "The summer you quit," he began, catching Gibbs' eye. "Retired… The summer you retired, Ziva taught be me piano. We were learning this duet,"

Gibbs took the bag in his hands. "You any good, DiNozzo?"

"Started my lessons again a few weeks ago. Pretty good, I guess,"

McGee turned to Tony. "So wait, I can't use lotion, but you can take _piano_ lessons?"

"It was in honor of my dead partner, McGee! Your lotion was for your… feminine glow,"

"Sensitive skin," he corrected. McGee glared at him a little, but disappeared back into the apartment.

"Boss, I think Ziva's gonna contact us," Tony returned to the original conversation.

"How's she gonna do that?"

"No clue. But she will," Gibbs continued to stare at him. Tony sighed restlessly. "Last summer--"

"Summers busy for you, DiNozzo?"

"Yes, they are," Tony said. "But last summer when you guys came and got me on the Seahawk, Ziva said something to me, something about getting orders and following them, even if you don't like them,"

"And?"

"She said it again in the note,"

"Orders," Gibbs repeated. "From who?"

Tony shrugged. "She got orders but she was coerced… I don't get it either,"

Gibbs looked down and nodded as he realized. "Mossad,"

"You think Mossad was behind this?"

"Yeah, I do,"

Tony stared at Gibbs for a long moment. "Me too,"

* * *

Tony was shocked to find himself falling asleep so easily that night. The past two days had been invigorating. Knowing Ziva was alive had given him a new energy and the sweetest peace. He had had this feeling of anxiousness and excitement fluttering inside him since he found out the truth, but had ignored it until now. He had been certain he wouldn't be able to sleep with this new knowledge, this new hope of seeing her again. It was almost too good to be true, and he found himself pinching his arm now and then, just to make sure.

Gibbs had ordered Tony to go home and sleep once again, now having full assurance that Ziva was safe. McGee and Levin followed suit, but Gibbs placed Tony under protective custody, posting a full team in and around his building. If the shooter had been carrying out a hit, then the "client" most definitely find another to finish the job. Though Tony had protested the idea, he was relieved to not be on full alert, and he soon fell into the kindest of sleep.


	22. And So We Wait

**A/N: So I tried really hard to figure out a different greeting than my usual "Hey" or "Hi" or "Hello." But sorry, I failed. So you'll just need to learn to appreciate "Hey!" ; )**

**This weeks chapter is short, I know, but I'm buying myself some time. I've gotten to a point in the story where I'm working out a crapload of details about the current plot and the future plots, and plus, well, I need to end it where I ended it. : ) You'll hate me for it, but hey, it's what makes you love me too, right?**

**I know some of you think you've got a handle on where this is going, but trust me, you'll be surprised. Like, in a few short chapters. Two, maybe three chapters. Can't wait to "see" the "look" on your "faces". It's gonna be fantastic.**

**I'd love to hear what your favorite lines are. I love hearing about that. Today's chapter isn't as poetic as others have been in the past, but… I don't know. You'll just have to see for yourself.**

… **I tried really hard to figure out a different salutation, but it sounds like you'll just have to stick with this:**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He walked into work the next morning, grinning with his new found joy. He carried with him four coffees, Jamaican, no sugar, no cream for Gibbs, hazelnut for McGee, White Chocolate Mocha for Levin, and his favorite caramel with soy milk and six packets of sugar. Tony nearly danced a jig as he placed the coffee on everyone's desk, ignoring the wide, crazed eyes of Levin as he walked in.

Abby walked in from the back silently, a huge smile on her red lips. Without a word, she embraced Tony. She pulled back several moments later, still smiling wordlessly.

"Why aren't you squealing, Abs?" Tony asked, laughing.

"I'm too happy to squeal,"

"You're never too happy to squeal,"

"You're right," Abby agreed and let out a high-pitched squeal, jumping up and down, turning in place.

"You caught up on the case?" Tony said when she was done, finishing placing Gibbs' coffee on his desk.

"Yep. Read your reports, like, three times each,"

"How long have you been up?"

"Only a couple hours,"

"Gotta cut down on that caffine, Abby," Tony chided with a grin as he sat down.

"Not yet. Not until Ziva is back here, sitting in her desk," Abby turned slowly towards Ziva's old desk, eyes dancing. "You think he'd mind if I start to--"

"Abby," Tony said, looking up at her.

"Fine," She mocked hurt. "Not until you find her. Then I'm kicking Levin's big butt back to San Diego,"

"He's from San Diego?" Tony said, starting up his computer.

"Didn't you read his file when he joined the team?"

Tony shrugged. "Didn't really feel like it,"

"Ah," Abby said with understanding. She sat on the edge of Tony's desk.

"You processed the evidence yet?"

"Yep. Finished half-an-hour ago. Well, processing, yes. Still running the bullets from your SIG against the ones in our shooter, and the bullets from our shooter to the ones in Ziva's wall. And our shooter's prints and DNA and blood work,"

"You're pretty busy," he commented.

"I'm big on multi-tasking," she said, swinging her combat-booted legs back and forth.

"I know," he agreed.

"You find Ziva yet?" Abby asked, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Nah," Tony said, his smile fading just a hint.

"She'll find you, won't she?"

Tony glanced across at Ziva's old desk. "She always did,"

Abby looked at Tony thoughtfully. "She'll be proud of you, you know,"

"For what?"

"For changing," she spoke almost slyly, as if she knew something he didn't, as if she had a sweet secret in her pocket.

"Changing?" Tony repeated skeptically.

"Tony, over the past few months you've grown up more than you have in the past thirty-seven years,"

Tony chuckled a little. "I doubt it,"

Abby eyed him. "You just wait and see,"

"I always have," He said, grinning.

* * *

Three hours later, the entire team was in, sitting and waiting. Tony had been staring at his cell phone and work phone, both sitting side by side, and e-mail Inbox open and ready, waiting for any sign of Ziva. McGee and Levin were working on IDing the shooter, but they hadn't gotten anywhere, and Gibbs had disappeared, as usual.

Tony tapped his fingers lightly on his desk, staring at the three pieces of technology before him, all silent and blank.

"Tap… tap… tap…" he murmured along with his fingers.

"Tony," McGee called.

"Tap… tap… tap…"

"Tony," McGee called again. Tony continued to ignore him. McGee grabbed a sheet of paper and crumpled it up, throwing it at him, jolting Tony out of his trance.

"Yes, McIrritation?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who's being irritation... Irritated. Whatever. Just cut out the tapping, please,"

Tony swiveled towards Tim. "But I'm bored. She hasn't called, she hasn't emailed, nothing,"

McGee stared at Tony for a moment. "How's your basketball team?"

"Just fine," he insisted.

"You missed practice last night,"

"I forgot,"

"Those kids were counting on you, Tony,"

"I know,"

"And you left them waiting at the park for how long until they figured that you weren't coming?"

Tony sighed and stood impatiently. "If you had bothered to ask, McGee, I got someone to cover for me,"

"Who?"

"Not important," he said quickly, swiveling back to his normal position.

"You didn't," McGee said, staring at him.

"Didn't what?"

"You didn't get Abby to cover for you, did you?"

Tony shook his head. "Not Abby. And how do you know it's not one of my buddies from college?"

McGee gave him a look. "Who?"

Tony sighed. "Palmer,"

"Palmer? You let _Palmer_ cover for you?"

"Palmer is perfectly capable. I just gave him a list of things to tell the kids to do," McGee looked at him skeptically. "What? What could he have done?"

"Ruined the minds of those kids,"

"They'll be fine," Tony said, glaring. It was then that his work phone rang. He picked it up at the speed of light. "Special Agent DiNozzo,"

"Tony?"


	23. And I'm So Close

**A/N: Hey guys. So rumor is, FFN was giving y'all a hard time the last couple days. Feel free to send in your reviews for the last chapter (I only got 8 due to the crap that it had going on…) No pressure, but…**

**Anyway, here's today's chapter. Very short, I know, and I'm sure the first half will be a bit of a let down, what with the cliff hanger from the other day, but the next chapter is mind blowing. Mind blowing, I tell you! So just let me have this, ok? Because after that, the next chapter is even **_**more**_** mind-blowing! Earth shattering, life altering—pick a phrase and that is what we've got in store.**

**I finally know where this story is going. I was worried for a minute there—got a bit stuck. But now I know and you guys are going to be all over it. Seriously, we've got some good stuff ahead.**

**Stay tuned for… well, sorry, no scenes from our next episode. I'm not that nice. : ) Nonetheless, stay tuned. We've got quite a ride ahead.**

**Don't forget to review!**

* * *

"Tony?" A man's voice said. His heart fell, but he didn't hang up.

"Yeah,"

The background was noisy, people chattering and music playing. "I have your lunch,"

"My lunch? But I didn't--"

"You can come pick it up at Alfredo's Chinese. You know where it is?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Be there in an hour?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tony replied as the caller hung up.

McGee looked at Tony. Levin had a completely confused expression on his face. "Who was it?" McGee asked.

"Um… Not sure… I'll be back in a couple hours. Cover for me?"

"You're under protective custody, you can't pleave. And besides, it's only lunch, Tony," Levin began to explain. "You don't need a--" Tony disappeared into the elevator. "Cover," he finished limply. He looked to McGee. "What was that about?"

"No clue," McGee replied, eyes still on the elevator.

"He wasn't supposed to leave," Levin protested.

McGee sighed. "Gibbs is gonna have our heads,"

* * *

Tony walked into Alfredo's Chinese, not even bothering to contemplate the ridiculous name as he and Ziva so often had done in the past. He almost heard the distant echos of their laughs, the ringing of their banter. He shrugged it off and looked around. It was busy, as usual. He walked up to the end of the counter, past the cashier. He caught the eye of a nervous looking man.

"I'm Tony. Someone called and said my lunch was ready?" he said, his voice low.

"Tony. Ah, yes. One moment," the man walked into the kitchen. A minute later, he returned with a white bag. "Don't forget to check your fortune. I hear it is especially pleasant at the Jefferson Memorial today. Perhaps you should eat your meal there? Good luck,"

Tony raised an eyebrow and cocked his head a little. The man nodded. Tony gave a charming grin. "Thanks,"

"No, thank you," the man replied.

Tony walked to his NCIS issued sedan and set the bag on the floor by his feet. He looked around, not finding anything unusual or unordinary. He was at the Memorial ten minutes later and his heart had begun to beat quickly as he found his way to an empty bench. He sat down and opened the bag beside him, searching for the fortune cookie. It was buried beneath some napkins, but he finally found it.

He broke the cookie and read the fortune. His heart quickened.


	24. And I Can't Believe It

**A/N: Hey everyone! Wow, crazy few days filled with nothing but technical problems.**

**Today is my birthday (sweet sixteen!) and so I thought, in celebration, I'd post the chapter you all have been waiting for… Sort of. Just wait and see!**

**I know this chapter is short, but it'll be worth it in the end, I promise!**

**Oh, and I'll let you guys know how the birthday thing goes with the girls from my church and such. A couple of you mentioned it, and to all those who already wishes me a happy birthday, thank you from the bottom of my heart. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Meet me below the bridge that the blind photographer found our seaman under. Bring team. 1 hour._

Tony smiled and fingered the fortune for a moment. Before he allowed himself to get carried away with his emotions, he glanced around him to make sure no one had followed him. No signs suggested it.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Gibbs' number. "Hey Boss. I got her."

* * *

Tony's heart was pounding as the team rolled onto the last street they'd need to turn on to reach the bridge. The sky had grown brighter with the peak of the afternoon, but its position caused it to feel so dark beneath the bridge. The roar of the cars above drowned out all other sounds. Tony stepped on the gas, forgetting McGee and Gibbs were even in the car.

They reached the meeting place just as a silver sedan pulled up. Tony got out of the car quickly and grinned as its driver got out. The familiar brown hair was up in a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing one of his favorite shirts. She turned around and smiled, her eyes sparkling like the day he had last seen her. She seemed almost paler and her eyes were a bit tired, but it was true: she was here. She was alive. He couldn't help the smile on his face, wider and more sincere than it had ever been. His heart beat quickly and his breath was uneven with excitement. _Finally_.

Tony took a step forward just as a black van sped up behind Ziva, tires screeching. Tony unholstered his gun as it reached behind her. It was then that he saw the AK-47 in the hands of a passenger in the car, aiming straight at him, and a second passenger with an equally large weapon in the front passenger seat. In the blink of an eye, a third passenger scooped her up, stifiling her screams and pulling her into the van as they drove off as fast as they had arrived.

Tony was speechless.

Ziva was gone.


	25. And How Did We Get Here?

**A/N: Wow! You **_**guys**_**! You are so incredibly amazing! With that last chapter, you passed 300 reviews annnnd you gave me more reviews than ever before! Awww. And even more, you all gave me such sweet, wonderful birthday wishes. Awwwwwwww. Thanks, you guys. It means more than you know. And just to keep you updated on my personal life, tonight I find out if the girls at my church remember my birthday. Right…**

**Anyway, I love that my goal of blowing you all away was accomplished. I tried really hard. : ) Muahahahaha.**

**Tonight one thing is resolved, but only a thousand more questions are written. And then the next chapter? Oh dang. I'll have that posted in a few days. I'm super busy this weekend, and then I leave not this coming week but next, so I might be a little, well, gone. But I've got a system, you see, for posting while I'm on vacation for 2 weeks (can't remember if I told you--DC and Boston!)**

**Well, here you go. Enjoy! And don't forget to review.**

* * *

Tony stood still behind the car door, gun aimed at the path of dust the van had left behind. He was almost unable to believe what he had just seen.

"DiNozzo! Get in the car!" Gibbs called, his eyes raging. They got back in the car and sped off in the trail of dust, searching for any sign of the black van. It had only been seconds since they left with Ziva, but it felt like hours. Tony pressed on the gas harder, the sense of urgency that had run through him growing with each breath he didn't take.

"Tony, we lost her," McGee tried to say as he gripped the door handle.

"No, we did _not_lose her, Probie!" Tony insisted as he continued to drive.

"Tony," Gibbs spoke calmly. "Tony, head back. We lost 'em. We'll get a print off the tires and we'll put up a BOLO,"

"No, that's not enough," Tony cried, speeding as he entered the final street that led to the main highway, thankful the streets had been free of pedestrians.

"It has to be," Gibbs said softly. Tony sighed and made a u-turn, driving back to the scene. McGee pulled out his phone and began to make the call for the BOLO. He hung up shortly, giving them the little information they had. McGee shut his phone and looked to Gibbs. "Call Abby. Have her put up a missing person's report,"

McGee nodded, his eyes somehow disappointed. He dialed Abby's number.

"Tim! How's Ziva? How's Tony? Is she okay? What's going on?"

"Abby, Abby, calm down," he coaxed her. "I need you to put up a missing person's report for me,"

The line went silent for a moment. "She didn't show?"

"No, she did," he paused. "But… we had company,"

"Company? Like, Mossad?"

"I don't know. Ziva parked, got out of the car, turned toward us, and then," he stopped.

"And then what?" Abby demanded, her voice low.

"A black van came. Three passengers and a driver. All equipped with heavy assault weapons. They took her,"

"They just took her? You let them kidnap Ziva?" she cried.

"We didn't have a chance. We were outnumbered,"

"You had Gibbs!"

"Abby, we couldn't do anything. If we had tried, we'd be dead too,"

"Too?"

"Abby, it's a figure of speech. We're all fine,"

"No, we all 'aren't'. Ziva was kidnapped by a bunch of psychos with guns! We are not _fine_, McGee!" Abby sighed. "Put Gibbs on," McGee handed his phone to Gibbs.

"Abby," he said quietly. Tony parked the car and they got out.

"Gibbs, how could you let them do this? How could you let them take her, just like that?"

"There was nothing we could do," Gibbs said, staring directly at Tony, who was watching him, his eyes speaking words.

"You could have saved her," she said angrily.

"Abby," his voice was nearly a whisper.

"What?"

"Put out the report. Please,"

Abby hesitated. "Okay," she complied and hung up. Gibbs shook his head slightly as he stared at his phone. He'd have to deal with her later. He looked up at Tony who was now staring at Ziva's car, at the scene before him.

It was as if he wasn't sure it was real. He seemed to be replaying the scene in his head over and over again. His eyes were haunted, weak. Lost. There she was. Within his reach. And she was stolen from him in an instant. She had been there. She was counting on him.

And so there Tony stood, the hurt in his eyes nearly pouring out as silent rage poured in. A deadly combination. He couldn't speak, though Gibbs knew he was desperate to, desperate to say something, do something, change something.

McGee was taping off the surrounding area, following the path backwards to find where the van had been lying in wait.

"So what now?" Tony finally said.

Gibbs walked up to him, eyes determined. "We find her."

* * *

Tony stormed into the squadroom, McGee and Gibbs tailing him. Levin stood and began to raise his hand. Tony began to put away his things. He glanced up and saw Levin standing there.

Tony looked at him expectantly. "What? This isn't second grade, you don't need to raise your hand,"

"Well, I, uh, well, McGee her found--"

"The restricted number. The program must have traced it while we were gone," McGee finished.

"Thought you were running it with Abby," Tony said, confused.

"I was. I had it notify me here instead,"

"So whose number is it?" Tony asked.

McGee looked up at him uncertainly. "You're not gonna like this, Tony,"

"Spit it out, McGee!" Tony cried, though he knew Gibbs' watchful eyes were on him.

"The number… I traced it back to a pre-paid phone,"

"Bought by who?"

"Eli David."


	26. And I Want Her In My Arms

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, but I had an **_**extremely**_**busy week. But I'm back now for 8 more days before my trip! Oh, and for the final chapter of the Birthday Surpise from Church Girls, no, they did not. But I've moved on. : )**

**Today's chapter is a bit of a whoozy. A lot if explained. A crapload is not explained. Think I could be Shane Brennan's protégé? I think I could pull it off, if I do say so myself. ; ) Really though. Wow. This chapter. Maybe one of my favorites. I just love Tony here. It's another take on how Tony may react in the coming episodes when he learns of Ziva's capture and such.**

**Enjoy, my friends.**

* * *

"Eli did this?" Tony cried.

"Ziva _is_ his daughter," Levin pointed out. "He only called her, Tony,"

"No, his pre-paid _phone_ called her," McGee said, reading from his screen. "Eli David is currently in Istanbul. He was even in a conference call with Vance earlier that day, direct from Turkey. _This_ call was made down the street from Holt's house. Consistent with our theory,"

"What theory?" Levin asked.

"The theory that whoever forced her to fake her death was creating the right conditions for her to go somewhere alone and not be missed," Gibbs answered.

"How'd they know about Holt?" Tony asked McGee.

"My guess? They were keeping tabs on Ziva, so they knew what cases she was working on. They probably were keeping tabs on Holt too,"

"Clever," Tony commented dryly.

"No," Gibbs said. "Methodical,"

"So if Eli bought the phone… Is this a Mossad op?" Tony said, his brow furrowed with underlying anger. "I mean, it would match up with what you said the other day, Boss, in Ziva's apartment building, but…"

"Foreign agencies aren't allowed to operate on American soil," Levin reminded him.

"Eli doesn't care about that,"

"He cares about his daughter, though. Maybe that's why he was keeping tabs on her," Levin continued.

"Eli David doesn't care about anyone but himself, least of all Ziva," Tony said, his arms crossed. "And it still doesn't explain why he forced Ziva into hiding,"

"I think it's time for a little chat with Director David," Gibbs said.

* * *

"You think I was behind this?" Eli asked skeptically.

Gibbs and Tony stood in the dark of MTAC. Gibbs could feel Tony's growing fury, his hands clenched in his pockets, blinking numerous times to somehow set aside his anger.

"I think you have a lot to explain, _Director_," Gibbs replied. "You can start with why,"

"I do not see _why_ you believe that _I _forced my own daughter to fake her death,"

"We have evidence that suggests it," Gibbs said, trying to keep his cool.

Eli sighed and looked around before returning his eyes to the screen. "I did not arrange it,"

"That's not true," Gibbs insisted. Tony looked down, hardly able to control himself.

"But I _did_address an old friend to speak with Ziva,"

"And does _speaking_ include coercing her to disappear?"

"Ziva… She had grown soft,"

"Soft," Gibbs repeated.

"There was a mission," Eli continued. "A mission which required we,"

"We, meaning Mossad," Gibbs said.

"A mission which required _Mossad_ to keep tabs on a terrorist,"

"Which terrorist?"

"His real name is not known, Agent Gibbs, but he is responsible for twenty-nine bombings in the last five years, all in Israel, and all involving American citizens, as well as dozens of major acts of violence,"

"So?"

"So, we gained intelligence that showed he was here, in America. We do not know where, yet, but we do know he is here. We knew the action that would be necessary to take could become… controversial,"

"Ah," Gibbs said, grinning knowingly in spite of himself. This was so typical of Eli.

"Officer David," Eli began. Tony flinched. "She was not fond of the plan. We knew we would require her assistance, but she refused to partake in any involvement,"

"So you had 'an old friend' talk to her," Gibbs completed.

"Yes, that is what I instructed him to do," Tony ran a hand through his hair.

Gibbs chucked. "Who is this 'old friend,' Eli?"

Eli cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, though his voice continued strong and certain. "He is a Mossad operative,"

"Who?" Gibbs demanded, raising his voice. Tony began breathing heavily.

"Akim Azaria. I have not spoken with him in several months,"

"But you didn't need to, did you?" Tony finally spoke up, staring Eli in the eye. "You trusted him to get the job done. You knew she wouldn't be a problem anymore. You figured if she just shut up, just went off the grid, you could do whatever you want. Didn't matter if she had to leave her entire life behind, didn't matter if she had to fake her own death. All that mattered were your precious plans! Did you even _ask _her? Ha, I highly doubt it. Tell me, Eli, how _did_you get her to go along with this little charade? I gotta hand it to you, that's a pretty big feat. You know how stubborn she is. Probably got that from you. Only, she stood her ground so as not to ruin international relations with the United States. And now you know what, they have her. I don't know who it is, but if she's harmed, if you have _anything_ to do with this, I swear… How can you even call her your 'daughter'? How can you even call her by her title. '_Officer David_'. That's all she is to you. A pawn. This is all a game to you. Her life, her feelings, they don't mean a thing! As long as the job is finished, the mission completed, nothing else matters!"

Eli sighed condescendingly. "Are you done, Agent DiNozzo?"

"No, I'm not. I won't be until she is back here, at NCIS, safe and unharmed,"

"Back in your arms,"

Tony drew a breath and opened his mouth before shutting it once more and then finally deciding to speak. "Sir, Ziva was my partner for five years. I was responsible for her life. Then one day, she disappears and leaves behind a pool of blood and a badge. I was _hospitalized_, for PTSD, because the stress was just too much on my body. I pretty much gave up on life, and you wanna know why? Probably not, but I don't freakin' care what you think.

"Ziva was, no, is, the most incredible person I have ever met. She's strong and beautiful and caring and she thinks she isn't compassionate like Tali was, but she feels more than she lets on, to me or to anyone else. She is amazing, and you don't even see it! And then one day I get this letter, telling me that _I_, _I_, changed her! Telling me that somehow, I changed her! And then I realize that I owe her everything. Because she changed me too. Every day, she challenged me to be a better person, to be a better man. And then I try, I tried really hard to do everything she asked, to be the man she always knew I could be. And I don't know if I've become that man yet, but what I _do_ know is that I owe her my life because she gave me mine back. And I will go to the ends of the earth to save her from whoever has her, because _she deserves_ _it_. And you may not realize it now, and you'll probably realize it, but what you have is one incredible daughter. You've never realized what was right in front of you, and she's been there from the beginning. You never got it, and I can't figure out how for the life of me. So yeah, I won't be done until she's back here, in _my_ arms, safe,"

MTAC had grown completely silent. The techs had stopped breathing, typing, and moving for that matter. Gibbs had merely watched him the entire time, his eyes quiet on his senior agent, on the boy who had become a man. Eli's eyes seemed to search Tony's face.

And Tony just stood there, heart on his sleeve, yet still sure and hopeful and serious.

"I might have an idea of who took her," Eli finally said. His eyes had grown softer as Tony spoke. "While Azari _is_a Mossad operative, there have been reports that he has made some… questionable moves. Questionable, even for Mossad,"

"He was rogue?" Gibbs asked.

"We had our suspicions, but no evidence. I was keeping him on a short leash,"

"So you asked him to talk to David about okaying some _more_ questionable moves?"

"He was the officer assigned to tail our terrorist. We… _I_, had no reason to suspect that he might go to such extreme lengths. I really did instruct him to just _talk_to Ziva," Eli promised.

"Why'd you put such an unstable man on the job in the first place?"

"Like I said, we were keeping tabs on him too. I was watching his every move, but we did not want to alert him,"

"So explain to me, then, why you didn't do anything when he forced her to fake her death?"

"What was done was done. Had her certificate of death been signed then repealed, he would have been compromised. We could not take the risk, and--"

"And it solved the problem with Ziva," Tony finished. He began to pace a little, though he had calmed down significantly.

"When he brought her back to Mossad, I spoke with him about his actions. He seemed quite resentful, quite angry. He did not return the next day,"

"So he's been MIA for months and not even _Mossad_ can track him down?" Tony said.

"I did not say that. There was little contact for three weeks. We moved Ziva from time to time, and he would guard her now and then. But he was tailing our terrorist and we could not afford more communication than that, not until three days ago."

"What happened three days ago?"

"We found this," Eli said. He began to type, and a photo appeared on one of the screens. One obviously Israeli sat in the backseat of a car beside a shadowed figure. "Azari and our terrorist. Not even our best technicians could fix the image,"

"You think he sold out Ziva's location to the terrorist?"

Eli nodded. "Azari is the best, and that is why we did not take out of the operation earlier. However--"

"He's unstable," Tony finished.

"Unfortunately," Eli sighed a little.

"So what now?" Gibbs asked.

"I would like the details on Ziva's kidnapping,"

Gibbs stared at Eli for a moment, studying him. "We arrived at the scene about forty-five seconds before Ziva did. She got out of the car, turned around, and then a black van comes flying out of nowhere. Three passengers and a driver, all armed. The door was open, they drove behind her car, grabbed her, and drove off before we could do anything. We were outnumbered," he said. "Tell me, Eli, why did Ziva want to meet with us today?"

"I do not know. She was with Azari all day, Agent Gibbs,"

"You trusted Azari with your daughter's life?" Tony asked angrily.

"No, I trusted my daughter with her _own_life. She can take care of herself, surely you know that of all people, Agent DiNozzo," Tony shook his head and smiled in frustration as he walked around mindelessly. Though Ziva _could_ take care of herself, she wasn't perfect, not in the way she tried to be or tried to appear. Eli eyed Tony. "You do not agree," his words were much more of a statement than a question. _Whether Ziva likes it or not, she _is_ her father's daughter_.

"Ziva is human, Eli. As strong as she may be, we all have our limits. You seem to have forgotten hers," Eli rolled his eyes in frustration. Tony grinned. "Glad we're both on the same page here, _Eli_,"

"Agent DiNozzo, Agent Gibbs," Eli began, sighing. "You will have Mossad's full cooperation," Gibbs raised his eyebrows as he glanced at Tony. _Weird_, Tony thought. "I will have one of my officers send you the information we have,"

At that, Tony had heard all he needed to hear. He walked briskly out of MTAC and went down to the bullpen.

"Abby got an ID on the shooter in Ziva's apartment," McGee announced as he walked in. Abby stood beside him, smiling to herself in triumph despite her obvious worry for Ziva. "Just got a hit," Tony walked over to him as he sent the image to the plasma.

"Noam Lev, resident of Tel-Aviv. Banker," Abby said.

"Banker… Never heard that one before," Tony commented sarcastically, remembering Michael Rivkin's cover.

"_My gut told me it was Rivkin, not Ziva. Sometimes my gut just... sucks. But if Ziva knew something, I wanted to give her a chance to explain it to me," Tony said to Vance._

"_To protect her," He completed._

"_If she needed it,"_

"_You jeopardized your entire career and for what?" Ziva cried angrily, her eyes raging with more than mere fury. It was pain._

"_For you," Tony said honestly. Her eyes filled with surprise. How desperately he wanted to keep it at that, the purest and sweetest truth he had ever known. But he couldn't. "He was playing you, Ziva," he added._

Those weeks had been hell, the knowing, the not knowing.

He hadn't been able to protect her then.

But he could now.

"Tony," he finally heard McGee's voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Tell me more about Lev,"

"Not much else to tell. No criminal record other than a couple traffic violations,"

"Sounds like Mossad," Tony and McGee shared a smile for a moment, remembering Ziva's driving skills, or better put, lack thereof. Levin stared at them, eyes blank with confusion. Tony grinned. "Never mind,"

"Or ex-Mossad," Gibbs said, striding in. He began to fill in the rest of the team with the intel Eli had shared, only in fewer words; typical Gibbs-style.

"That too," Tony sighed, staring at his shoes for a moment. He glanced up at Gibbs. "You think they'll make demands or something?"

"Depends,"

"On what?"

"On who it is 'they' is, and what it is 'they' want,"

"So… you want me to find out who 'they' is?"

"The proper term is 'they are," McGee pointed out.

"I was just… nevermind," Tony said, shaking his head. It was then that his cell phone rang. He pulled it out. "DiNozzo," he answered.

"Tony," _Ziva_. Her familiar voice sounded weak, as if she were on the verge of tears. Ziva never cried. Tony motioned to McGee urgently. He put it on speaker as McGee began to trace the call.

"Ziva, where are you? Are you okay?"

"Tony, I--" her words stopped short as he heard her cry out a little.

"Agent DiNozzo," began a man's voice, thick with accent.

Tony stiffened. "Where's Ziva? What do you want from her? I swear, if you hurt her--"

A sadistic laugh escaped the man's lips. "It is not what I want from _her_, Agent DiNozzo,"

"Then who?"

"You."


	27. And I Loved Her

**A/N: Hello, all. Sorry for the long wait, but here's today's new chapter. It's a little interesting, I think. I know it's kind of short and not particularly thrilling, but I love the Gibbs/Tony conversation about Ziva that we get to see. I wish I could take credit for this story, but really, I gotta hand it to Don Bellisario and his awesome writers for creating these characters. Their words just spill onto the page and I just piece it together. Anyway, I worked out the next plot that begins (sort of) after this one ends (sort of) and dangit, I am so excited. You guys are gonna love this. It gets really, really amazing in a little bit here. We're just a little more than half-way through what I've already written, and I have so much left to write, so yay for you guys! And just remember, the short chapters and long waits make it last longer, no?**

**Now. 32 days and 6 hours until the season premiere of NCIS. Finally!!**

**Autumn**

"Me?"

"Yes, Agent DiNozzo, you,"

"What could I possibly have that _you_ would want? Have you _seen_ my paycheck? And who are 'you' anyway?"

"No one you want to anger,"

"I'm more afraid of Ziva than I am of you,"

Another cackle followed. "Well you shouldn't be,"

"And why is that?" Tony asked. The line went dead. Tony closed his eyes in frustration for a moment before looking to McGee.

"All I know is that they're here, in DC," McGee said, his voice sounding defeated.

Tony he leaned over and slammed a fist on his desk. "Can we do _anything_ right today?"

"They'll call again," Gibbs reminded them from his desk. "Demands still have to be made,"

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, other hand resting on his hip. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said, not caring about Gibbs' stupid rules. He looked over at Gibbs, eyes confused. "What do they want with me when they could have the daughter of the daughter of the director of Mossad? I mean, there's just no reason…"

"There's always a reason," Gibbs replied.

"We still think it's terrorists?" McGee asked.

"His accent was as thick as curdled milk," Tony said sharply. Levin made a nauseous expression and walked back to his desk. Gibbs looked at Tony before walking towards the elevator, motioning Tony to follow.

"Go through the information Eli sent, see if there's anything there," Gibbs said as he walked away, Tony trailing him.

Levin looked at McGee. "Okay, I have to know. Tony goes gallivanting off all over the place, and even though someone tried to blow up Tony's car, Gibbs didn't put him under protective custody? And then Tony almost gets shot and he _does_ get put under protective custody, but he still gets to trapse all over the world? Gibbs is _famous_ for his use of protective custody when it concerns his team,"

McGee shrugged. "Gibbs has his own methods,"

"But Tony could still be in danger. I mean, he probably still is! That bomb was designed to go off when he was _in_ the car. It was designed to kill!"

"Maybe whoever planted it designed it to scare him but give him enough time to get out?"

Levin shook his head. "No, there's no way. Tony should be dead, and he isn't dead, he should be under heavy security," he insisted. "What's so different about this time?"

"This time… This time, DiNozzo's the one calling the shots,"

"But he's not the boss, he's not Gibbs,"

"But Ziva was _Tony's_ partner. They probably never even talked about it. But I know Tony. Even if Gibbs _did_ put him under protection, he'd still find a way to get out. And he's a trained Federal agent. He knows how to take care of himself,"

"And Ziva was _Mossad_,"

McGee sighed. "You have to realize something: around here, around Gibbs and Tony and Ziva, there are just some things you'll never get the answers to. And with those things, you don't ask, you don't question,"

"You just follow blindly, got it," Levin replied sarcastically.

"No," McGee corrected. "You trust them. You trust your partner,"

Tony and Gibbs walked inside and almost immediately, Gibbs turned it off and looked at the younger agent expectantly.

Tony sighed and moved toward the Emergency Off switch impatiently. Gibbs put a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder and guided him back to his previous postion. "What if they call again?"

Gibbs cocked his head a little. "_You_ need to cool off,"

"I'm fine,"

"No, you're not,"

Tony shook his head and looked away. "My partner is out there with these, these terrorists, and if I don't give them what they want, they'll kill her!"

"You don't know that,"

"I know that my partner needs me,"

"You're right. She needs you. But she needs someone who she can trust to not lose it, who can make a decision that's not going to hurt him or her," Gibbs said, his voice serious and instructive, eyes determined.

Tony shifted in place. "I just hate knowing that there's _nothing_ I can do to save her,"

"But you will," Gibbs replied, echoing Abby's words to him not long before. He sighed. "Over the past few months, you… You've grown up a lot, DiNozzo,"

"Death can do that to a person," Tony said, looking away.

"It was more than that," Gibbs said knowingly. "What'd she say? In her letter?"

Tony smiled a little despite the heaviness he felt in his heart. "She told me that I helped her change. That I inspired her to feel…" Tony ran a hand through his hair. "To love…"

"She loved you," Gibbs said, his words not a statement and not a question, but an irrefutable truth.

"Yeah," Tony said softly, not allowing his voice to break. "She asked me to promise her that I'd find purpose and happiness and to do something good with my life," he stopped.

"And?" Gibbs prodded intuitively.

"She told me try and find love again," he said quietly. He chucked a little. "The only thing I can never do,"

"You won't have to if you do your job,"

Tony looked at Gibbs for a moment. "Alright. Let's do this."


	28. And It's Coming

**A/N: *cries* Guess who finished **_**Falling Apart**_** today?****That's right, ladies and gentlemen, that would be me. Isn't that sad? But no worries, I think I've got a sequel worked up, so we'll have to see about that. **

**Today a couple new things are learned. It's a short chapter, I know, but there's a reason for it. **

**I leave for DC on Tuesday, so I'm currently setting up a bunch of chapters to post while I'm there. I'll post one every couple days if there's enough reviews . Reviews aren't my main motivation for writing, but if you want me to post quickly, it helps to know there's people still reading. I miiiight post tomorrow. Like I said. We'll see.**

**I'll see you lovely people in a few days, yes?**

**-Autumn**

* * *

Tony walked into the bullpen feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"They call?" he asked.

McGee shook his head. "We have a couple hits on our BOLO, but nothing in the area, and we know they're here. Description's too vague,"

"We need that license plate,"

"What if we check the traffic cameras?" Levin spoke up. "There's only two ways to get to that location,"

"They were waiting for us though. We can't possibly know which way they came from," Tony said.

"Then we check both," Levin replied. Tony smiled a little, appreciating the dedication Levin was finally showing. "I think I'll really like Ziva when I finally meet her," he mused as he moved back to his desk.

Tony and McGee shared a knowing smile. "Yeah. She's real… unique," McGee said. Levin gave him a naiive smile before returning to his desk.

Abby came running through the squadroom. "Where's Gibbs?" she demanded.

"Right here," he said as he approached her from behind.

"I got a hit off of the bullet from Tony's shooter!" she said, already running to the elevator.

"Since the bullet went through the wall, there was some damage, but I was able to get enough to run it through. You will _never_ believe what it matched to," she said, grinning as she looked at Tony, McGee, Levin, and Gibbs, all standing in an expectant line. " The bullet, from Corporal Eric Kasing,"

"Our dead Marine in Georgetown?" Tony asked.

"The one we _thought_ was shot by his wife," she confirmed happily.

"But he wasn't,"

"I can't say that for sure, but I _can_ say that whoever killed Kasing had the gun our shooter had,"

"Still no match on the owner?"

"Nope," Abby replied. "Do you think there's a connection?"

"Ziva worked for NCIS. Kasing was a Marine. That's a connection," Levin pointed out.

"Or a coincidence," McGee suggested.

"We don't believe in coincidences," Gibbs said. He kissed Abby on the cheek as he handed her a Caf-Pow! "Good work, Abs. Come on, we've got work to do," McGee and Levin followed him.

Abby smiled at him as they walked out. She glanced over at Tony. He stood, staring up at the plasma that held the photo of the bullet. "Whatchya thinkin'?" she asked, walking up behind him.

"Wasn't Kasing shot with a silencer?"

"Yup,"

"But there was no silencer on the weapon that was on Lev,"

Abby shrugged and pursed her lips, hands on her hips for a moment as she thought. "It couldn't have been a hit, then,"

"So then what was it?"

"Maybe he was just checking out the place?"

"Unless he was there for the same reason I was," Tony said, realizing.

"He wanted to know where Ziva was too,"

"Then why'd he shoot at me?"

"He saw you as a threat,"

Tony smirked sarcastically. "A lot of people seem to be thinking of me that way lately. What do I have that they want? I'm worthless," he said, his face falling with defeat.

Abby put a sweet hand on his arm. "Not to Ziva," she reminded him. Tony smiled a little. Her phone rang. "Abby's Labby!"

"He called again," McGee said urgently.


	29. And Let It Be Soon

**A/N: Hello from DC! I'm having a fabulous time--our flight went smoothly, and things are going great. It's wonderful being back here! I even got to watch NCIS last night and tonight, so I'm not even deprived. It's awesome!**

**This chapter is short but it's gettin us along, so be patient! I'll see you all soon!**

* * *

"He refused to talk to anyone but you. He knew we'd trace him if he stayed on the line while he waited," McGee explained as Tony jogged in quickly, Abby tailing him in her clunky black platform boot. "He's going to call back in… five, four, three, two, one,"

Tony's cell phone rang. McGee nodded, signaling that he had begun the trace. "Agent DiNozzo," the now familiar voice answered.

"Yeah, I'm here,"

"I'd like you to meet me,"

"Where?" Tony asked, pen poised over paper.

"The Vietnam Memorial. Be there in exactly one hour. Come alone. No partners, no earwigs, no bugs. Do you understand?"

"I do,"

"Perfect," he replied, hanging up. Tony looked to McGee.

"No trace. But I did get his number. I think I can triangulate that number with the cell phone we found on Lev to find a common location,"

"How long?"

"Maybe twenty minutes?"

Tony nodded. "Do it," Tony opened his desk drawer and began collecting his things. Gibbs came up behind him and gently closed the door. "I have to, Boss. Traffic is gonna suck and if I don't get there--"

"You're not leaving until we know if McGee's got anything,"

"Boss, I need to be there, and I need to go _now_," he insisted.

Gibbs looked at him for a long moment. His eyes were desperate. Gibbs shrugged. "Take a vest. Levin and I are coming,"

"He said to come alone," Tony reminded him.

"And you will be. Levin and I will be down the street. But once we get there, we don't move until we hear from McGee, got it?"

Tony nodded. "Let's roll," he called, walking down to the elevator.

"On your six," Gibbs said. Tony looked over his shoulder and smiled a little.


	30. And I Didn't Speak Then

**A/N: Hey! Still in DC, having a fabulous time! Came up with 3 new chapter titles at the Lincoln Memorial yesterday--can't wait to share the other 2, as this is one of them.**

**Here's the new chapter. Think, "suspesion of disbelief" for the end, ok? Michael Weatherly is a huge supporter of the idea, and I'll need you to take it on for just a minute. Things are gonna get crazy here, ok?**

**I loved the beginning. And the end. The middle is good too.**

**Oh, and I write all my own quotes. I look up the video for the quote I want and write it out, so all of these should always be correct. You deserve the accuracy.**

**So here we go!**

* * *

Tony sat in his car. It was fifteen minutes until he needed to be at the Memorial, which was only fourty feet away. A large group of school kids walked toward the memorial, laughing and subconsciously rubbed the steering wheel with his thumb, eyes lost as he stared out the window to the memorial.

"_You ever, um, regret not having a wife and kids, especially during this time of year? Hanukah is all about family. Is it not the same with Christmas?"_

_He didn't answer. He couldn't._

Tony shut his eyes for a moment at the memory, that painful, piercing memory. Those were the days he knew about Rivkin. She hadn't told him. All he knew was that she met him in Israel. That she went to visit him only a few weeks later. And that he wasn't there. Not even for the holidays. Not with her.

Tony… He had always been there. He couldn't look at her then, because he knew. He knew what she _wasn't_ thinking. He knew that she had someone in her life, someone she wouldn't tell him about. And after all that crap with Jeanne and everything, she still didn't tell him. They were partners. They were best friends.

And through it all, he was there.

His thoughts were interrupted by the shrill of his cell phone. He nearly jumped out of his seat as he answered. "DiNozzo,"

"Hey, it's Abby,"

"Hey Abs," he said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"I finally got a hit off of the bomb fragments from your car,"

Tony sat up straighter. "And?"

"It's a match to components used in a terrorist cell from Iran, the ones Eli was talking about,"

"They've been planning this for a while," he realized. "Even before they took her,"

"Guess where the last bomb took place?"

"DC,"

"Guess whose hotel room was one block away,"

"Lev's,"

"That's right. Tony, I'm thinking Lev is ex-Mossad and running with the terrorists now,"

Tony sighed silently. "Me too,"

"What they're planning, Tony--"

"It's gonna be big," he finished. He felt his heart drop to his stomach. He had become far too familiar with that feeling.

Abby was quite for just a moment. "We'll get her back Tony, we'll stop this, and we'll get her back. You got that? We'll get her back," her words were almost a promise, a vow, a need.

"Thanks Abs," he said, hanging up. He looked out the window once more.

The silence was interrupted by the fiery sound of what could only be a missle. He looked over to the blaring object in the sky. It was headed not only for his car, but for the memorial, filled with families and children and tourists. It came parallel with the ground, almost at his eyelevel, heading straight for the wall and for the people. He quickly turned on the ignition and sped toward it. It was unlikely, but if he could just—

_Boom. _

_I'm here with you._


	31. And It's Only Just Begun

**A/N: Hey! So I went to the Washington Naval Yard today and saw NCIS! It was amazing! I leave for Boston in the morning, but I can't wait to go home next week--I miss my friends so much.**

**Here's the new chapter. Dun dun dunnn.**

* * *

Smoke. All around, smoke filled the air. Car horns screamed in tune with the flocks of people. The world glowed with a devilish orange produced by the flowers of flames that had engulfed a navy blue Dodge Charger with a Hemy engine.

Tony lay on the ground, back to the sky. He could just open his eyes. He saw dozens of birds flying above and away from him. But these weren't cartoon birds, he soon realized. "Thank you," he whispered. He looked over and realized the smell of gasoline that filled his lungs was coming from his card, burning with anger only seven feet away. He lay there for a moment, trying to determine whether he was injured or not. The only thing he felt was great disappointment and anger, he realized, as well as a slight ache from his landing. He rolled over gently, groaning just a bit as he pulled himself up. For a half-second, he felt dizzy as the blood rushed to his head. Tony soon regained his balance and began to walk away from the scene slowly.

A woman ran to him and touched him kindly on the shoulder with concern. "Sir, are you alright? I saw what happened. Was that—was that some sort of bomb?"

He ran a hand through his hair as he allowed her to guide him to the grassy curb nearby. "No. it was a missle," He pulled out his badge and showed it to her. "I'm a federal agent,"

"No, you're a hero," she said. "And I'm a nurse. Here, let me help," she said, gesturing to the small cut on his forehead he didn't even realize was there. She pulled out a tissue from her purse and a tiny flashlight, checking to see if he had had a concussion while he held the tissue to his cut. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No where medicine can help," he said, grinning.

"Hm?"

"Nothing. No, I'm fine. I need to call my boss," he said, pulling out his cell phone.

"Is that him?" the woman pointed to Gibbs who was heading towards them.

Gibbs walked up to him. Tony sat there simply, elbow resting on his knee, head resting in his hand, surveying the scene blankly. The nurse quickly explained that he was okay and all but ran off when she saw the look in Gibbs' eyes.

"Hey," Gibbs said, jolting Tony out of his thoughts. "What happened?" his tone was kind, but the sense of a demanding urgency in his voice was obvious. The sheer cry of what could only be the sirens of responding agencies approached in a symphony.

"I was waiting, like I was told to. A lot of kids and families were around. I looked out the window and saw a missle heading towards the memorial. I drove towards it. I hoped it'd crash into my car before it crashed into the memorial. It did. I jumped out of the car before it hit,"

Gibbs stared out at the scene for a moment, unable to look at Tony as he considered his options. It had been a stupid move. Brave, but stupid. He was torn between slapping the agent on the back of the head and giving him a handshake.

Admonishing would do no use. Tony was sure to get plenty of that from Vance.

He didn't need to ask why he did it. Gibbs had been a Marine. He knew why.

He sighed and sat down next to Tony, fingers clasped casually. He opened his mouth to speak when he saw Fornell heading their way.

Tobias looked down at the pair. He shook his head. "I heard reports that it was an NCIS agent," Tony glanced back behind Fornell for the first time. Metro PD and a number of other law enforcement and aid agencies had arrived at the scene in quickly, but the media arrived there first. "Shoulda know he was one of yours," Fornell said to Gibbs. "There's a crapload of reporters arriving. They all want to talk to the 'hero.'" Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What are you doing here, Fornell?" Gibbs asked.

"Federal property, FBI jurisdiction,"

"You're gonna want us on this too," Gibbs said.

Fornell eyed Tony. "Wanna tell me what was going on?"

Tony shifted. "It's kind of a long story,"

"I've got time,"

"Ziva doesn't," Tony murmured. An EMT walked over to him and looked him over.

"Can you walk?" she asked.

"Officer David? She's been dead for five months," Fornell said, brow furrowed.

"I'm fine," Tony said to the EMT, ignoring Fornell.

"You'll need to come with me to the ambulance anyway," she said, motioning in the direction of the ambulance with her head. Tony glanced at Gibbs, who nodded. He and Fornell followed.

"Officer David was coerced into faking her death," Tony said, groaning a little as he moved to sit on the edge of the ambulance.

"She what?"

"Mossad. There was a, uh, mission that Officer David Eli had a 'friend' talk to her. He took things a little too far,"

"And how's that connected to this?"

"She set up a meet for 2 o'clock. We got there within seconds of one another when a third party showed up and took her,"

"Why didn't you try and stop them?"

"They were heavily armed. If we had so much as shot at their tire, they would have blown us all to shreds," Tony said, looking up at Fornell seriously as the EMT cleaned his wound.

"Who else knew about it?"

"Talked to Eli,"

"David?"

"Yeah. Sounds like her handler, Akim Azari sold the information to terrorists who in turn set up a meet with me,"

"With you?"

"You gonna repeat everything I say, or should I speak more slowly?" Tony asked and Gibbs exchanged a glance.

"What happened with the missile?"

Tony explained the story once again, almost subconsciously as he watched the number of reporters and media crew growing behind the barricades Metro had set up before FBI arrived.

"It was a small missile," Gibbs mused as he watched the firefighters contain the fire that had destroyed Tony's car.

"What are you thinking?" Fornell asked Tony, whose eyes had become drowned in thought.

Tony looked at Fornell. "This isn't over. It's only just begun."

* * *

**Yep. :) Don't forget to review!!**


	32. And The Heart Wants

**A/N: This chapter was inspired by the song **_**Everything**_** by Lifehouse. Listen to it while you read this, it makes it so much better! You can find it on YouTube—it's hugely popular. I loved writing this chapter, but it was really hard to do. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

It was dark. She couldn't see. Her eyes were open, as wide as she thought they possibly could open, but despite the fourteen hours she had been in that room, tied to a very uncomfortable metal chair, she couldn't see a thing.

Ziva's wrists burned as she tried to wriggle out of the rope that had been expertly tied around them, and a second and third securing her ankles to the legs of the chair, which was bolted to the floor. The room smelled of a black mold which was no doubt covering the walls.

Worst of all, it was silent. It was quieter than the silence of Ducky's autopsy. No rat, no moth dare scurry across the room for fear of disturbing the undoubted presence that loomed outside of the structure she was captive inside.

Her heart had sunk long ago, deep into her. Nothing had worked out the way it was supposed to. Nothing in her life worked out the way she thought it would. Nothing had gone according to plan, nothing had happened the way it was supposed to.

She wasn't supposed to be captured by terrorists.

Mossad wasn't supposed to refuse to listen to her, the only Mossad liason in the United States.

Azari wasn't supposed to coerce her into faking her own death.

She wasn't even supposed to be weak enough to _be_ coerced.

Ari wasn't supposed to give into the temptations only Hamas could offer.

A sister isn't supposed to kill her brother.

Tali wasn't supposed to die.

Her mother wasn't supposed to die.

She wasn't supposed to become an assassin.

She wasn't supposed to fall in love with him.

Ziva shut her eyes as her chin fell to her chest. Never in her life had she felt more defeated, more inadequate.

The number of times she had chided herself for falling for such a man… There were too many. He was absolutely ridiculous. He was childish. He was crazy. He talked more about movies than he did himself, surprisingly. And yet, somehow, despite all of that, she had fallen in love with him. She accidentally found a way to see through it.

There in her own dark room, she let a tear slip as the memories of the past five months, past five years, the past 34 years of her life flooded her mind, inducing a physical pain deep within. It was a pain she knew well, one she had learned to ignore. It was the pain of guilt. Of failure. Of desperation.

All her life, she had been trained to set aside these feelings, to move on to the next thing, to focus on the mission. But now, there was no "next thing", no mission, nothing to focus on but her aloneness. She had no one. Nothing.

Nothing but him.

Oh, it was the look in his eyes as she stepped out of the car that gave her any reason to hope. The familiar smile on his face, the one that was real, not the one he gave every person who walked by. It was a smile few people ever saw. She was one of them.

For a moment, she smiled, remembering those times, so happy, so right. The stakeout filled with pranks on one another. Seeing him again, aboard the Seahawk. Halloween. Even just having each other's back as they interrogated suspects and approached dangerous situations. He had always been there for her. He stuck by her, through everything.

Almost.

Jeanne bolted everything up. It wasn't her fault.

"_You know I saw this on Cinemax once," he said. She had followed him into the men's room. After several days of hell, he still wouldn't talk to her. She knew something was wrong._

"_So what happens now?"_

"_They play some funky music and you say, '_I have been watching you from afa_r,'"_

"_Well I have been watching you from afar, Tony, which is why I know how much you cared for Jeanne,"_

_Tony chuckled as he tried to clean his shirt from the jelly doughnut. "Your timing is impeccable, Ziva,"_

"_And how much it hurt when she left," she added." So. What happens now?"_

"_I said I'm fine," he insisted, trying to move away from her._

"_You are not fine. You are still deeply troubled," Ziva replied, searching his face._

"_Even if I was, this bothers you because..."_

"_Because you are my partner!" Oh, and so much more. But this wasn't the time. " And because you made a grace error in judgement by falling in love with that girl,"_

"_If this is a pep talk, I give you a D-,"_

"_And right now it is very clear that you are still hanging onto her!"_

"_I see the confusion. These are called 'feelings,' Ziva,"_

"_Feelings you need to let go,"_

"_That easy, huh?"_

_ITony, even if by some miracle Jeanne did forgive you, would you be willing to be Tony _DiNardo_ full time, to leave your entire life for her!?" _To leave me behind?_ "You did not think this through,"_

"_Didn't you tell me the heart wants what it wants?"_

"_No, actually I didn't"_

"_Well it does,"_

"_Well it shouldn't," Oh, how well she knew this._

"_Really? This coming from the woman who fell in love with the dead man walking?"_

_She almost felt shocked at his words, hurt piercing through her heart. "You crossed the line, Tony,"_

"_Oh, I crossed the line?!" he called as the door closed behind her._

And yet, in the end, he came back. Knowing that… it was what kept her hoping that someday, he'd find her, he'd rescue her from that cold house of chrome and glass that belonged to her father. The one where the piano echoed the aches of her heart, much like the mold-covered building she was in now did.

This echo had followed her her entire life, that is, until she met him.

He always came back.

Always.


	33. And How Could This Happen?

**A/N: Awwwwww, you guys gave me the best reviews ever. I love you guys! Thanks so much!**

**Here's today's chapter. It's short, but the next few chapters will be so beyond worth it, you have no idea. It's also the last pre-prepared chapter I have while I'm on vacation, and I don't eave until Tuesday, so we'll see what happens. But good news! I decided I'm not done writing this story like I said a few weeks ago, so I'm writing it again and hopefully it'll go for a little while longer! So just wait and be patient, ok? : )**

* * *

"Would you like to explain why my agent had to drive into a missile that was headed for the Vietnam Memorial, that was going to cause major destruction to federal property and kill a number of lives?" Gibbs demanded in MTAC, Eli sitting before him.

"It had nothing to do with Mossad,"

"You knew!" Gibbs insisted.

Eli sighed. "There were rumors,"

"And you didn't bother to tell me about the terrorist attacks that were 'rumored' to occur, attacks from the very cell that _your daughter_ has been kidnapped by? The one we are _both_ looking for?" he cried.

"It was only a rumor,"

"Tell that to my agent. Tell that to the United States government. No, you know what? Tell that to me," he said, his voice deep and angry.

"There is nothing you could have done! We did not have a location or a target,"

"Has it even _occurred_ to you that the same men who were attempting to kill dozens of people and destroy government property with a _missile_ are the same men who have your _daughter_?"

"It has. That is why I am sending to you one of my officers. She will give you her full cooperation,"

"Does she know anything about this cell?"

"She does," a female voice answered behind him. Gibbs turned around. There stood a woman, dark hair and dark eyes, olive skin. She could have been Ziva's sister. She stood beside Vance, his eyes slightly smug.

Eli smirked a little and nodded to Vance who nodded back in turn. The screen went blank.

Gibbs turned to the woman as she began to speak. "Officer Rebekah David,"

* * *

**Ohhhhhhh. Ok so don't forget to review!**


	34. And Here's to Hope

**A/N: I'm now back from my trip! I had an incredible time—I love the East Coast a million times more than I could ever even like CA.**

**Here's today's chapter where we gain a lot of information, and we're building up to the next chapter. It's a knock out chapter, number 35 will be. Seriously. Mind. Blowing. Life. Altering. I'm so excited to share it with you guys! *squeal***

**Really.**

**I'm thrilled.**

**You will be too.**

* * *

Tony bounded up the stairs toward MTAC. He had just been down with Abby, giving her the shrapnel left over from the missile that he had persuaded Fornell to hand over. Fornell knew the speed and excellence Abby worked in. _Let's just hope she's fast enough_.

As Tony walked in, he was slightly disappointed not to find Eli still on the screen. He had been dying to give him a piece of his mind for the past two hours. Gibbs was still there, however. He walked down to him, curious to find who was with him.

"Tony," the woman with them turned around.

"Rebekah?" he was a little startled to see her there. She walked over to him and offered her hand for a handshake, a small, friendly smile on her face.

"You two know each other?" Vance asked. It was the first time Tony had noticed him there. He forced himself not to furrow his brow in dismay. "How?"

Tony looked at Rebekah. "Ziva introduced us. Sort of,"

Vance eyed him but moved on. "Officer David is here to read us in on the cell--"

"That's holding Ziva," he finished. Vance nodded. "Good to know we're finally getting some cooperation from Mossad,"

Rebekah shifted in place. "My uncle, I mean, Director David, he does not mean to endanger your investigation--"

"Just his daughter,"

"DiNozzo," Vance said warningly.

Rebekah's eyes moved from one determined man to the next. _Were their motivations more similar,_ she thought, _the three of them could take over the world._

"We need to know what you know," Gibbs finally said.

Vance gestured to the door. "We'll discuss this in private,"

They walked to Vance's office and all took seats around his conference table. Rebekah opened the thick file she had in her hand. "They are called Kalla Amal. It is Arabic for 'no hope.'" Tony swallowed but didn't let his fear show, though Gibbs could easily see it. "They are responsible for a number attacks in a number of countries in the past several years,"

"And how has Mossad not caught up to them yet?"

"They are a very small, yet very powerful group. They plan for months before they make a single move. They specialize in heavy arms warfare and missile warfare,"

"So we've noticed," Gibbs commented dryly.

"What about locations? Where would they keep Ziva?" Tony asked as his sense of urgency creeped through his tone of voice.

"A warehouse. They may be quite… stealthy, but they do have patterns. They would rent it under a legitimate name, one that would not raise suspicions, no more or less than nine months in advance,"

"I'll call McGee," Vance said, unusually kindly. Tony gave him a nod of gratitude.

"And why would they want DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward.

"Tony? I have no idea," Gibbs cocked his head. She looked down, but her expression stayed stayed steady. "They are not like other terrorist cells. They take every action personally. Last year, Agent DiNozzo killed the youngest brother of the leader,"

"I did?"

"Aaron Lev,"

"Lev… Lev was the last name of the man who tried to kill me in Ziva's apartment. Good thing he's dead,"

"Oh no…" Rebekah said, sighing slightly, though she contained her composure.

"What?" Tony asked quickly.

"Noam Lev, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Noam Lev left Mossad a year ago. I had my suspicions…"

"Was he the leader?" Tony demanded.

"Yes," she admitted seriously. "Now I am sure of it. We did not know who their leader was at the time, but we knew that they practically worshipped their leader,"

"Lev,"

"They will complete their mission, but as they advance, things will turn into chaos. Without a leader--"

"They're more dangerous, aren't they?" Tony asked. Rebekah nodded. "Fantastic," he replied.

* * *

Tony sat at his desk, head slumped in his hand, elbow resting on the surface before him. Levin, McGee, Rebekah, and Gibbs had been going through the warehouses in DC, and surpisingly, there were more than it seemed. He had tried, but after one very unfocused hour, he was unable to be any use and Gibbs ordered him to take a break to get his head together.

Tony stood and restlessly walked to the window. It was nearly two in the morning, and the sky was appropriately dark. He leaned an arm against the window, his head resting on his fist as he looked out over the Naval Yard, quiet and still. Her sweet words from times before sang to him and he closed his eyes, feeling helpless. _I can't lose her again. Not again._ He made a silent vow, one he hoped she could somehow hear.

_I'm here with you._

He'd find her, no matter what.

He took a deep breath and walked back to his desk and pulled up the warehouse list again.

Andrew Hodgins.

Ryan Kilter.

Sarah Burch.

Kerry Lyon.

John Doe.

"You guys, I think I've got something!" he called out. The team simultaneously stood as he pulled up the information on the plasma.

"John Doe," Gibbs read skeptically. "Not suspicious at all,"

"Bought one hundred and sixty days ago," McGee said.

"That's five months," Rebekah replied, looking to Tony. "Leased by Iman Nod,"

"You know him?"

Rebekah nodded. "He's on our watch list, but we don't really have any proof, nothing we can work with," She looked back at the screen. "He's known for socializing with Kalla Amal,"

"He's on our watch list too," McGee said as he returned to his desk and began to type.

"Tony, I think this is our warehouse," Rebekah said.

Tony nodded. "Can we get a warrant?"

"We don't have time," Gibbs said. "Ziva doesn't have time,"

"We have probable cause," Tony said. Gibbs nodded as they shared a look. "Let's go."


	35. And I Found You

**A/N: Here is your mind-blowing chapter. I came up with the idea for how it'd happen months ago and was just dying to write it, so when the time finally came, I was extremely elated. But to make the experience as incredible as it could be, read it while listening to Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol (can be found on YoutTube, just do a quick search.) And read it slowly, taking in one line at a time. Slowly. Like gooey molasses dripping down the side of a table. Think about the lines in italics and run through the individual scenes in your mind, remembering all that happened, the effect it had. Slowlyyy. And if you that, I promise, it will be amazing. I did it. I think I nearly cried—and I wrote the thing!**

**So here you are.**

**Slowly, you must read.**

**With the music in the background.**

**It'll be worth it, I promise.**

**Slowly!**

**-Autumn**

* * *

Tony pulled up to the curb just as the sun began to find the sky.

_Having phone sex?_

He had never driven with such vicious urge, such desperation, knowing that two lives hung delicately in the balance: Ziva's and his.

_You falling in love with a dying man?_

Gibbs, Rebekah, and McGee spilled out of his car while Levin pulled up with extra back-up, emergency teams, and the Director parked just down the street.

_That's because you're a good person._

Tony carefully ran with his team to the outside of the warehouse, noticing the familiar black van parked just to the right.

_Because you are my partner._

He could hear muffled voices, foreign, coming from the inside as his shoes crunched on dozens of old cigarettes.

_Do you ever think about soulmates?_

His gun was pulled, as was the rest of the team.

_It was inevitable._

He nodded to Gibbs, who pulled open the large door.

_You could have called._

Tony and the team ran in, gun aimed at the five men standing in the back of the room.

_You'll say you won't want to talk about it, but your eyes won't shut up._

Ziva sat in the back on a chair, arms tied behind her and ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

_I'm tired of pretending._

The team took care of the terrorists, gunshots and yells going off violently as Tony made his way to Ziva.

_Do you ever regret not having a wife and kids?_

He pulled out his knife and cut at the rope, her grateful eyes upon him.

_For you._

He took he hand and pulled her away, one hand on her back, guiding her, the other on her head, bending her down in protection.

_I'll be back._

They ran out of the warehouse as gunshots ensued.

_I'm here with you._

When they finally reached safety, he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her with everything within him.

_I know you'll find me, Tony._

"I found you," he whispered into her hair just as the dawn met the sky, lighting up the world in a glorious kiss of honey.


	36. And Here You Are

**A/N: Hey guys! So you totally blew me away with the amazing response to the last chapter—we broke 500 reviews! Thank you so, so much!**

**Some of you thought it that was the last chapter. Nope, it isn't. You probably didn't notice, but we still have several loose ends to tie up, so we have a bit of a ways to go. The action will be put on hold for a few chapters, but trust me, it'll be coming back soon, so just sit tight while we work out some stuff, ok?**

* * *

He always hated hospitals. It reminded him of the time he had gotten his dad to the hospital after he fell down the stairs, woozy from too many drinks. It reminded him of when Gibbs went into a coma and then quit. It reminded him of Jeanne. And worst of all, it reminded him of when he had killed Rivkin and he stood behind the doors, watching Ziva.

But today, he was sure he had never been happier to be in a hospital. He leaned against the wall of the long hallway. Right to his left was the door to Ziva's room where she was being examined, poked, and prodded. He knew she hated it, but it was alright. She was _alive_. Gibbs had convinced McGee, Levin, and newly-arrived Abby, Ducky, and Palmer to go for coffee and Caf-Pows, leaving him there alone. His heart was bubbling with a majestic joy.

The blueish-green door opened and Tony stood in stance reminiscent of a Marine Corps attention. Dr. Silva stepped out and closed the door behind her.

"How is she?" he asked immediately.

"Dehydrated. She has bruised wrists and ankles, and her left wrist is fractured. She'll have to wear a brace for about four weeks, but she'll be fine," she replied with a smile.

Tony let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Doctor. Can I see her?"

"Of course. She'll need to take it easy for the next few weeks. She has a vitamin k deficiency—it indicates that she hasn't been outside in quite some time. Do you know anything about that?"

"Unforunately. That won't be happening again, however. I'm making sure of that," he said in a low voice.

"Good," Dr. Silva replied. She put a hand on his shoulder. "She's lucky to have you,"

Tony smiled softly. "I don't know about that," She smiled and walked away, off to her next patient. Tony moved to the door and put a hand on the door handle tentatively, suddenly unsure of what to say or do.

"Come in," she called through the door. Tony shook his head at her skills which had obviously not deteriorated over the past five months. He opened the door and closed it behind him, standing still near the threshold as he took in the scene before him. Ziva sat in her hospital bed, an IV and multiple other tubes hooked up to her. Despite her fragile appearance, there was a certainty in her eyes that was unmistakable. She was real. "What?"

Tony shook his head as he hesitated to speak. "You look…"

"Weak," she finished, almost sounding resigned to her situation.

"Just not quite you," he corrected her slowly.

She smiled a little. "I have not been 'me' for months,"

"So I noticed," he replied. It hung in the air as he stood their awakwardly. There was so much he needed to say, so much he wanted to hear. He didn't know where to begin. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said stoicly. Tony cocked his head. "A bit tired, perhaps," she sunk back into her pillows which had her propped up. "Relieved,"

"Me too," he mumbled.

"And you? How have you been?"

Tony shook his head slowly, unsure of what to say or where to starts. He opened his mouth to speak when the door burst open, Abby leading the party that flooded in.

"_Ziva_!" she cried, moving to Ziva to hug her tightly.

"Abby, I cannot breathe," Ziva said, though a smile was visible in her voice.

"Sorry," she replied, stepping back with a grin.

"Hello, McGee," Ziva said.

"Hey Ziva," he said as he gave her a side-hug.

"Palmer," Ziva greeted the autopsy assistant who smiled in return.

"My dear, welcome back!" Ducky said as he wrapped her in a kind hug.

"Ziva," Gibbs spoke up from the back of the room. The entire group hushed into a silence as the pair exchanged a look that was beyond words.

"Gibbs," she said. She gave him a small smile, and he surprised her by returning it.

"Ziva, I am _so_ glad you're okay, and alive! We totally thought you were dead for like, _months_. It was so depressing! Except Tony. I don't think he ever really believed it," Abby spun off. A look of surprise registered on Ziva's face for only a moment. "And guess what?" Abby continued. "I bowled _better_ than Sister Rosita on Tuesday. It was _amazing_. And they replaced the Caf-Pow machine with a new one. The old one was really loud and really old and kinda clunky. The new one is _so_ much better. And we got a new team member, Levin. He's nice, but kinda, I dunno, boring…" Abby spoke quickly in her usual animated manner. Ziva tried to listen at first, but after that comment about Tony, she was… distracted. Ziva's eyes moved to Tony. He was staring right back at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She kept his stare, finding herself unable to tear her eyes away from him.

And for some reason, she felt like she would never be able to ever again.

* * *

It was quiet. It wasn't _too_ quiet. It wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't creepy. It was sweet. The silence meant, for the first time, that there was someone to share in it with.

The sun was beginning to set as Tony and Ziva walked slowly through the open-air garden the hospital provided. Birds whispered quietly in the trees and a butterfly crossed their path as they walked along in silence. McGee had convinced the group to go grab some pizza, but Tony stayed behind with Ziva for her meal.

Ziva had suggested a walk after dinner, thankful to get into the fresh air. Tony could hardly stop looking at her, watching her. Finally sighed and stopped, pulling her robe closer to her. "What is it, Tony?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have been staring at me for hours,"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know… I guess a part of me always hoped you were alive, and even when I found out it was true… It hasn't felt real 'till now. I'm scared that if I blink…"

"I know," she agreed softly, looking down and away.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said quietly, eyes serious.

"Neither did I,"

Tony let the silence take them for a moment before they began walking once more. "What have you been doing all this time?"

Ziva shrugged. "I was at my father's house,"

"What'd you do while you were there?"

"I read. I played the piano," she chuckled softly. "Do you remember that song we learned together that one summer?"

Tony smiled but didn't look over at her. "Yeah, I do,"

"I found it again. I do not know why, but it's always been a favorite," she mused as they walked along. Tony debated on whether or not to tell her about all that had happened during those months. "What did you do?"

_Crap._


	37. And Might I Come Home?

**A/N: Hey! So at the urging of the ever-fabulous Bravo my Lady Grace, here is your new chapter. Today we get some explanations, which is great, but there's kind of a silent catch. Just hold on for a little bit, ok?**

**EXACTLY 7 DAYS FROM NOW I WILL BE WATCHING THE SEASON PREMIERE! Sorry, just had to get that out because I am **_**so so so excited.**_** We're almost there!! It's been a long time coming, but we made it and it's almost here.**

**Really. I am elated.**

* * *

"What did I do?" he repeated nervously. Ziva nodded. Tony's heart nearly melted. Despite the bruises, the brace, the paler skin, the tired eyes, the slower pace… It was still her. They stopped at a bench beneath the shade, the soft sunset glowing about. "I, uh…" he swallowed. "It was the worst five months of my life,"

Ziva's eyebrows furrowed, though secretly, her heart quickened. "Why?"

"You weren't here," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes at first, then meeting them, gentle and soft.

"I'm here with you," his words were a whisper as he remembered her words.

"What?" Ziva asked, startled.

Tony sighed and stood. "Gibbs will be back soon. We should head back," He couldn't tell her. No. The timing… It wasn't right. She was finally back. He couldn't do this. Not now. He just… He couldn't.

Confused but not wanting to chase the subject quite yet, she agreed and they walked back to her room in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

Ziva, Gibbs, Tony, and Vance sat at the conference table in the Director's office uncomfortably, waiting for Ziva to begin. They had only been there for a minute, but already Tony could tell this day would be agonizingly long.

"It was not supposed to happen this way," Ziva said quietly though her voice was steady and still. She was echoing his thoughts from the night he did. Tony shivered inwardly. "Mossad… Mossad wanted to take down Kalla Amal. It would require not only heavy tracking here in the US but no doubt it would lead to their deaths. Foreign operatives are not allowed to work on American soil, not like this," Ziva said, brushing a flyaway hair from her eyes, sleek and shiny from a good washing. She sat at the table straight and tall, as she was accustomed to, dressed in familiar cargo pants and a shirt she had left behind in her apartment, brace encasing her fractured wrist.

"What'd you do?" Vance prodded.

"I told them to stop. That their presence in America would likely only draw attention. That _I_ would draw attention. We could not risk it," Ziva glanced at Tony. "My father tried talking to me, but I would not listen. He sent Azari to discuss it, but Azari had different plans. Two weeks before I went to pick up Holt, he drew my blood and froze it until the right time," Tony's stomach churned in disgust. "I was to go about my life until Azari could set up a time in which my disappearance would be right. I drove to Holt's and he disarmed me, then held a gun to my head as he ordered me to set up the scene,"

"The blood," Tony remembered.

Ziva nodded. "Azari called me that morning and told me Holt was dead, and to come to her house to pick he up when Gibbs noticed she hadn't arrived at court,"

"So you volunteered," Gibbs said, leaning back a little in his chair.

Ziva nodded, a disgusted expression passing over her face quickly, one only Tony noticed. "I have been—I _was_—an agent with your team for some five years. I learned what you would look for in a crime scene. So, I made it as inaccurate as I could without risking it. I had hoped you would notice, but it took longer than I had planned for,"

Tony glanced at Vance who sat up straighter with all the eyes in the room upon him. "Eli called me. Asked for us to hand over the investigation. There was nothing I could do," he explained.

Tony forced himself not to grunt in disbelief. Ziva continued. "I stayed at my father's home in Israel until up until three weeks ago when I came back here to plan and execute the meet. I had convinced Azari to allow me to do this, and what with all of my time inside, my impatience had grown and so he let me,"

"The fortune cookie," Tony said, and Ziva's eyes met his.

"The what?" Vance asked. The two looked down, unsure of whether or not to tell him.

"A few days ago, the day we lost Ziva, I got a call from Alfredo's Chinese, telling them that the order I hadn't placed was ready for pick up. I had been expecting Ziva to try and communicate, so I went, hoping they just didn't mess up someone else's order with an old customer's name. Inside was a fortune cookie with all the information about the meet,"

Ziva nodded. "It was supposed to be simple. We meet there, we figure out what to do, we leave, and no one else ever finds out,"

"But it didn't work out like that," Gibbs mused.

"It turned out that Azari only agreed to the meet so he could sell my location to Kalla Amal. It was the perfect place for a set-up. I should have picked something more public," she said, a hint of regret showing through her voice.

"You couldn't have known," Tony assured her.

"But I should have," Ziva protested. "I spent half of my time in Israel with Azari. I should have realized, I should have seen the signs,"

"Why didn't you?" Vance asked.

"Honestly, I do not know. I wish I did," she replied. Tony's heart ached for her. He saw the look in her eyes no one else did.

"You left clues," Tony said, changing the subject.

"I did," she nodded. "I knew it was coming. I know you would think I was dead. I didn't want that. So I left the clues. I had hoped you'd find me," Ziva said, her gaze finally falling on Tony. His expression was stone-stiff, but his eyes were soft.

"And I did,"

"Yes, you did,"

Vance and Gibbs exchanged a glance. He cleared his throat. "Well, it looks like he have a problem,"

"Just one, _Leon_?" Gibbs said.

Vance ignored his comment. "You were pronounced legally dead,"

Ziva scoffed slightly. "Of course,"

"There was enough blood at the scene to indicate extensive blood loss. You should have died with that amount. Why didn't you?"

"We took it over the course of those two weeks and froze it,"

"But you can get it overturned, can't you?" Tony spoke up. "They death certificate or whatever, right?"

Vance sighed and looked at Tony. "I can,"

"Good," he said.

"Then there's the issue of your job, Officer David,"

"I want to come back,"

"I have no doubt. However, we filled your place,"

"No, we filled her desk. We never filled her place," Tony corrected him, heat rising. "Officer David is much more valuable than Levin. You can move him to another team. He won't be missed,"

"I want to _come_ back. I do not want the same position," Ziva said, suprising everyone.

"Meaning…?" Vance spoke.

"I want to leave Mossad," Gibbs eyebrows heightened in almost an amusement. "And I want to come back with an American citizenship. I'd like to become a Special Agent,"

Vance looked at her critically. "That can take some time,"

"I understand," she said, though she was visibly disappointed. She hadn't thought that part through.

Vance sighed. "But I can try and speed things up if it means my Major Case Response Team is functioning properly. Tony smiled at Ziva, and she returned it. "You'll still have to attend FLETC,"

"That's fine," Ziva said, just happy to have the chance.

"I'll need verification, however, from your father, that you've left Mossad,"

Ziva's smile fell and she nodded slowly. "That could be a problem,"

* * *

**Sorry that wasn't terribly thrilling, but we'll get there.**

**7 days!!**


	38. And This Could be the Perfect War

**A/N: Sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long! I got caught up in real life. You know how it is, no doubt.**

**Here's today's chapter. The first half is another scene I thought of long before I got to write it (I write as I go—I change a ton along the way and can't afford to write scenes ahead of time) but I did have half the dialogue written and waiting to be pulled into the full scene. It's a favorite scene of mine from this story, one I hope we'll see translate onto the show somewhat soon.**

**Speaking of which.**

**OHMYWORDIT'SALMOSTHERE! 1 day, 21 hours. I can't believe we're almost there! I'm so beyond thrilled! I've driven my family absolutely nuts for the past 4 months. I don't know how I'll survive Tuesday.**

**I'll post again on Tuesday unless I get a good amount of reviews tomorrow—one of the reasons I like to wait for 2+ days is so that everyone who keeps up with this story and even some who don't get the chance to catch up and leave a review. It's twisted logic, I know, but I like it. It gives me a good idea of **

**Oh, and so sorry to have forgotten about this lately, but: thank you so much for all the amazing reviews and messages! I think you're all really fabulous and you flatter me way too much.**

**So here we go. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Sir, you should allow her to join NCIS as a full-time Special Agent," Tony said. He had set up a meeting in MTAC with Eli that night and was determined to get this one right.

"She's good at what she does for Mossad. Why should I let her go so easily?" Eli spoke almost defensively.

"Your rogue Mossad agents coerced Officer David into faking her own death, and then got her captured and tortured by terrorists. Mossad hasn't exactly treated her well. And that's only what happened _this_ year," Tony pointed out.

Eli sighed and looked at Tony skeptically. "And who exactly is making this request? Her lover or her partner?"

"I am," Ziva stepped out of the shadows of MTAC into the view of the screen, standing beside Tony.

"Ziva?" Eli seemed startled, though he kept it from reaching his face.

"This is my life, Director. I have found investigation to be more to my taste than espionage," she said, refusing to call him "father".

"You have grown soft, Ziva," he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Not soft. Human," Tony smiled inwardly as he watched her.

"I cannot allow my officers to be weak in judgement," he said, voice now monotone.

"Then perhaps you _should_ let me go, because that is not about to change,"

Eli shook his head as he moved around with papers on his desk. "Are you sure you want to make this decision?"

"Absolutely," she said, her words a dare.

He sighed. "I will start the paperwork,"

"I'll need it faxed to me within four hours," Ziva said. "No stalling," she said quietly to Tony, who grinned a little.

"Fine," he said stiffly and his feed stopped.

Tony turned to Ziva whose thoughtful eyes had not left the screen before her. "You okay?"

Ziva nodded after a moment then turned away as they began to walk out, not looking back. "Never better,"

* * *

The weeks passed quietly now, both Tony and Ziva avoiding any talk of the letter or its contents. Within a few weeks, with the conjoined help of Vance, SecNav, and the Israeli Embassy, Ziva David was an American citizen. Tony was shocked at the speed in which it happened, but grateful. After coming home from the hospital, Ziva stayed a week with Ducky to have her things shipped back from Israel and to work out her housing issues with her landlord.

It was a Tuesday when Gibbs convinced Ziva to grab some food with him. It was an unusual action for him, but they hadn't gotten the chance to talk for quite some time, and there was still so much she needed to know. It had taken some persuasion, but they finally settled on hot dogs from a vendor near the Lincoln Memorial.

They walked along silently for some time, no words necessary.

Finally Ziva sighed and stopped, looking Gibbs straight in the eyes. "What is it?"

"It's been a hard few months," Gibbs admitted. "For all of us,"

"Yes," Ziva agreed curiously.

"Especially Tony,"

Ziva smirked. "Right,"

"He was hospitalized, Ziva,"

The blood in Ziva's face drained, her eyes filled with concern. "What?" she asked, her voice a heartbroken whisper.

Gibbs shrugged. "It wasn't even two weeks after you disappeared. Tony's car was blown up. He was having a real hard time. Had an acute stress reaction. PTSD,"

Ziva shook her head, eyes lost. "Why?" she demanded in a quiet voice.

"He couldn't live without you," Gibbs answered quietly. Tears came to Ziva's eyes and she began to cry. Gibbs pulled her into an embrace as she cried, crying for Tony, for herself, for all that had happened. "He got your letter," he said after a few minutes.

Ziva pulled back. "My letter," she repeated.

"The one you wrote in the event you died,"

"Oh…" Ziva said as she remembered. Gibbs guided her to the grass where they lowered themselves to the grassy ground beneath the sweet trees above. "Did he tell you what it said?"

"Yeah. I guessed some,"

Ziva shut her eyes for a moment then looked around a little. "He seems fine now. What happened?"

"It was your letter. You told him you changed because he inspired you. Looks like you inspired him right back,"

"I did?" Gibbs nodded. "What did he do?"

Gibbs stood and held out his hand to help her up, though he knew she was perfectly capable. Had she not been so preoccupied with this new information, she wouldn't have accepted. But today, she did. "You should ask him,"

Ziva shook her head. "I can't," _She used a contraction._ "It's been six months since he read it, and almost six _weeks_ since I got back, and he still hasn't said anything. He obviously read something he did not like,"

"Ziva--"

"Gibbs, this is my choice. I need to move on with my life, or whatever is left of it. He did, I have no doubt. Now. I do not want to take about this anymore," she said.

_If only you knew_. "Ziva, one more thing. You never did tell us why they wanted Tony,"

"To be honest, I think they wanted us both. The perfect pair. The perfect war,"

What a dichotomy. The perfect war.

* * *

Tony was sitting at his desk the next morning, working on paperwork. It felt like all he had been doing lately. They had had a few cases over the last few weeks now that Ziva had been rescued, but for the past couple of weeks, they had been working on paperwork. Again. _Vance hates me._

_Ding!_ The elevator sounded across the room and Tony glanced up to see Ziva walking in. He stood and rushed to meet her.

"Hey," he said with a smile.

"I have a meeting with the Director," she said, avoiding his eyes and continued walking towards the stairs.

"About?"

"He has some paperwork for me to fill out,"

"Hm. Me too," he said, grinning. His heart fell when she didn't even look up at him, much less return his grin. He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "What's wrong?" Worry began to fill his heart.

"Nothing, Tony," she tried walking again.

"Come on, Ziva, talk to me," he prodded, eyes pleading.

Ziva looked up at him, and shook her head a little. "What is it you want, Tony?"

"I want to know what's wrong," he answered, confused.

"No, Tony. What is it you want?" she repeated meaningfully.

Tony's brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open but no words within reach. Ziva gave him an unreadable look and proceeded to bound up the stairs. Tony turned around slowly, hands on his hips as he walked slowly back to his desk.

"Something wrong?" McGee asked from his desk.

"Um… I'm not quite sure," Tony replied, running a hand through his hair.

"What'd Ziva say?" Levin asked.

"Um… I'm not quite sure about that either,"

Levin smirked. "Women," Tony took a deep breath and refused to shoot Levin the biting stare he was so tempted to give. "You two having problems?"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Problems?"

"Yeah, you know, relationship problems," Levin said. He shrugged. "My girlfriend and I had problems for a long time, but we went to a therapist and we got this book--"

Tony put up his hand. "Ziva and I are _not_ in a relationship,"

"Really?" Levin said with a skeptical smile. "Even after all that pining you did all these months, you never even made a move or anything? Dang…"

"Ziva and I are partners. That's it,"

"Technically, you're not partners yet,"

"Partners don't end when the job ends. They don't even end when the other dies," Tony said, eyes not meeting Levin's, instead drifting away in thought.

"Sounds more like marriage to me," Levin commented.

"Yeah, well, you just go back to your paperwork, okay?" Tony said, almost shooing him away with his hand.

Tony moved his attention back to his paperwork, one head resting back in his hand. _He's right._

* * *

**A longer chapter. I know, I know, angst, right? I promise, it'll get better, just hold out for a couple more chapters, and we'll get back some action too. Stick with me here!**

**See you Tuesday!**


	39. And So I Think of You

**A/N: OHMYGOSHTHEPREMIERWASAMAZING. Did you get all that?**

**It was incredible, wasn't it? Completely perfect. It was different than I expected, but I adored each minute of it. All the cast and crew did an amazing job—I'm completely in love with it. **_**Couldn't live without you, I guess. **_**Awww! I cried. Yes. I'll admit it. But chances are, you did to, or were tempted to.**

**I'm sorry for not posting, but "it's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission", right? Okay, so maybe that only works for Gibbs. But in my defense, it's been a crazy week, and we've all been occupied with Truth or Consequences. And who is as stoked as I am for Tuesday's episode? A Tiva confrontation in the men's room again? Yes please!**

**Here's today's chapter. I had to break it short for a good reason, I promise, because the next chapter is a really great one, I think. This is the last chapter of angst, but we still have plenty left of story to work with, ok?**

**Alright, off you go. Don't forget to review!**

* * *

An hour later, Ziva was walking back out of Vance's office, a myriad of files in her arms. She was headed towards the breakroom. Tony jumped out of his seat and ran to catch up with her.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"Fine," Ziva replied, gaze fixed on the nearing wall.

"What'd he say?"

"To fill these out," she gestured towards the files.

"Eh," Tony cringed. "I didn't even have to go through that make paperwork when I joined NCIS,"

"You do not have such a complicated background, Tony," Ziva said quietly, finally meeting his eyes as they paused in the hallway.

He put a caring hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, Ziva," Ziva's eyes turned away and she began to walk again. Tony stood still in his place. "You going to keep doing this?"

Ziva spun around. "Doing what?"

"Freezing me out,"

"I am not freezing you out,"

"Then what do you call this?"

"I do not know, Tony," she said softly.

"Try and explain it," he said, his tone defeated.

"There are some things I cannot explain anymore, Tony,"

"Like what?"

"Why do you keep pressuring me?"

"Because you refuse to say a word. You've been in my place, Ziva. You should know how much it… sucks," he said. He couldn't tell her that it hurts. _That_ would hurt.

"I am sorry, Tony. I just cannot do this," she said, turning away and walking into the breakroom.

And so he stood there, his loving heart aching.

* * *

It was those perfect films from the fifties that he hated the most. Oh, the style was fantastic—the men suave in their expensive suites, the women beautiful and appealing, smiles upon their faces. They were hilarious and creative, witty as ever. The music made him want to dance himself, but alone in his apartment, he smartly refrained.

It was the families that stopped him. The way the perfect families of one mother, one father, happily married, would bring their one daughter and one son, smiling as the sun, would take their children to the park, to the zoo, on a walk. It was the way they'd give each child a penny to throw into the fountain and make a wish. It was the skies he knew were blue and the flowers that were always groomed. It was the picturesque world where all their trouble could be confronted, where the good guys always won.

He just couldn't figure it out. This time, the good guys won, and yet he still lost. He had gained a new life through Ziva, despite the fact she was no longer there.

But when she came back, everything changed.

She was standoffish.

Quiet.

He hadn't gotten to see her much, what with the new cases, basketball practice, and the fact that she no longer worked for NCIS, at least, not yet. That was understandable. But when he did see her? Though his heart lit up like a brilliant aurora of lights, she, for some reason, did not.

Tony held on to that one moment. Dodging bullets and bombs and whatever else came their way, they ran out of that warehouse to safety.

That was the moment. The moment he held her. The moment he closed his eyes and whispered into the thick of the beautiful dark brown hair. The moment his heart was an opened flood of relief, of hope.

Of love.

Oh, he knew he loved her. He had known that for a long time now. Only when he held her close in his arms had it become real. Had she become real.

She told him she loved him. She had loved him a year ago, when things were good and she wrote that letter.

What happened?

What changed?

So tonight as he watched old reruns of I Love Lucy, he could only think of her.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Review, please? : )**


	40. And We Shall Go From Here

**A/N: How could I leave you all hanging for so long? Especially with the last chapter being so full of angst and sadness? It was cruel. I am sorry.**

**Here's today's chapter. It's the longest yet, I believe, and by the end of the chapter, you should be smiling. The beginning may be a little sad, but the end if the beginning of something new for these two. I'm pulling it in a direction I think it's possible TPTB will this season in regards to their relationship, and this chapter is the first taste of that. Trust me here, okay?**

**Was Reunion not completely wonderful? Oh, the bathroom scene. She kissed his cheek. Oh, so many fabulous moments in that episode. I'm elated! This season will no doubt be the best yet. I just know it.**

* * *

The weeks passed with the same routine: he would try and have a conversation with her, but it would end within three sentences and she would walk away.

He didn't know that every time she looked at him, her heart broke.

He didn't know that she thought he had moved on.

He didn't know that she still loved him.

She didn't know that he had _ever_ loved her.

It had been a week since Ziva finished FLETC. Today would be her first day back on the team. It was good to be back, but things didn't feel the same. They didn't feel right. Nothing had, not for months. Oh, how she wanted things to go back to the way they were.

Ziva walked into the elevator, familiar and cool in its metal. No one else entered, and for the first time in too long, she remembered.

"_I'm tired of pretending," he said, looking at her face on. _

"_So am I," she replied honestly._

"_It's dinner theater for an audience of one. When's the curtain goin' down?" he said in a quiet huff._

_And then he walked away, leaving her alone to regret._

"It was not supposed to happen this way," she said softly to the no ones who surrounded her.

The elevator dinged as it opened to the squadroom. She walked in, almost wanting to pause and soak in the sweet murmur of the natural goings on, the ring of phones, and the sound of… his laugh. She looked over to the bullpen to find him sitting there, leaning back in his chair as he did, laughing with McGee and Abby. _This_ was how it was. How she wished it had stayed.

"Ziva!" Abby cried happily and ran to embrace her in a too-tight hug. "Welcome back!"

"Welcome back, Ziva," McGee said with a friendly smile.

"It is good to be back," Ziva said. She looked at Tony who had been watching her silently. "Morning," she said.

"Hey," he said to her, his eyes soft and sweet. Abby and McGee had grown still, and the entire floor seemed to pause. The world stopped for just a moment.

Ziva once again felt that pain in her heart and turned around to her desk, not seeing how his face fell. She looked at her desk. It was exactly the way it had been nearly a year before. She smiled at Abby and McGee in thanks.

Gibbs came striding through in the way he did, coffee in hand. "Gear up, we've got a dead one in Rock Creek Park," the team moved into action swiftly. "Good to have you back, Ziver," he said as he walked by her.

She smiled in return and picked up her backpack as McGee followed Gibbs to the elevator, leaving her and Tony behind.

She looked at him and for a moment, their eyes connected. Ziva opened her mouth to say something, to address the hurt in his eyes, but no words came. Only that dull ache. He gave her a knowing look, despite the pain it was obvious he felt. She didn't understand it, but they walked into the elevator without a word.

This felt all wrong.

* * *

"McGee, witness statements. Tony, get a three hundred-foot perimeter with Metro. Ziva, photograph the evidence," Gibbs instructed as the team neared the crime scene.

"On it, Boss," McGee said as he went on his way. Gibbs walked ahead of them to the crime scene as Ducky and Palmer arrived.

Tony looked at Ziva. Her eyes were haunted and scared despite the brave face she kept for the world. "So, how've you been? How's it feel to be an American citizen, _Special Agent David_?"

Ziva looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "It feels good," she said simply. She looked at him for a moment longer, her expression turning pensive. She looked away and shook her head before walking ahead of him to the crime scene.

And there he stood, watching her walk away from him. She had been doing that from the day they met.

And he remembered the first time.

"_Espresso?" he looked over out of his daze to find Officer David standing beside him under the rainy awning of the hotel he had followed her to. She was holding out a cup for him. "Take it, it's not a bribe," she added. He didn't._

"_How long have you known I was--"_

"_Following me? Since I left the Navy yard,"_

_Tony chuckled a little. "I don't think so,"_

"_Blue sedan. You laid behind a white station wagon for a while, then a telephone van, you lost me at the traffic circle on--"_

"_Okay, okay, you knew,"_

"_Take, it, it's chilly out here," she insisted. He leaned over and took the other cup, presumably hers and she smiled._

"_Shouldn't feel bad. I was trained by the best," she said, speaking of his failure to remain hidden while following her._

"_You know, that's what I like best about Mossad,"_

"_Our training?"_

"_Modesty," he replied. He moved to the trashcan to throw out the box._

_She laughed. "Um, there's a slice in there," She reminded him pointedly. He took it out almost reluctantly and walked back over to her, letting the rain fall on it before handing it to her. "Toda," she thanked him._

"_Prego," he answered in Italian. She smiled._

_A moment of quiet passed before she found herself speaking again. "I lost my little sister, Tali, in a Hamas suicide bombing. She was sixteen and the best of us. Tali had compassion,"_

"_I'm sorry," Tony said, seeing for the first time that she had a heart._

"_After Tali's death I was like Gibbs. All I wanted was revenge,"_

"_Is that why you joined Mossad?"_

"_I was Mossad long before Tali's death. Old--"_

"_Family tradition," he finished knowingly._

"_Israeli sense of duty," she corrected him._

"_But come on, who recruited you? Father? Uncle? Brother? Boyfriend?"_

"_Aunt. Sister. Lesbian lover," she teased._

_Tony laughed. "You're good, you almost got me off the question. Almost,"_

"_I volunteered," she replied. Ziva handed him her empty coffee cup and walked away. "Laila tov,"_

"_Buena notte," he answered her as he watched her walk away, the rain glistening in the background._

"Tony, you okay?" McGee called from a few feet away.

Tony shrugged and gave him a smile. McGee eyed him but returned to his work. "No, I'm not," Tony said quietly.

A few yards away, Gibbs watched the exchange. He watched Tony and Ziva, each of their eyes trained on their tasks, eyes avoiding one another's, smiles absent. He saw the desperate look in Tony's eyes, the aching one in Ziva's. He had hoped that once Ziva came back, all would return to normal.

It hadn't.

It needed to.

* * *

Tony sat at his desk working silently, his partner across from him doing the same. Occaisionally he would make a comment, hoping to grab her attention, hoping to make her smile, to make her life. Like the way things used to be.

But she never did.

Gibbs walked into the bullpen. "Tony, with me," he motioned, grabbing his gear.

"You got a lead?" McGee asked.

Gibbs didn't answer him as Tony followed him out into the elevator. Instead, he drove them to the team's favorite coffee shop and ordered the strongest black coffee they had in stock. When they finally sat down, he still said nothing. He only stared.

After several minutes of Gibbs's silent stare, Tony broke. "I don't know what happened, Gibbs. I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything. But neither has she," he swirled the coffee in his cup a little. "I don't know what happened," he repeated.

"What'd she say?"

"Nothing, I told you,"

"no, I know she said _something_,"

Tony sighed. "She asked me what I wanted. Said she couldn't do this. I have _no_ idea what she meant,"

"What _do_ you want?" Gibbs asked, eyes piercing.

Tony looked at his coffee cup. "I don't know,"

"Sure you do,"

He sighed. "I want her. I want to be with her,"

"Then do it,"

"She doesn't want that. She told me in her letter… And I don't know what changed,"

"You did,"

"Yeah, but for the better, because of her!"

"Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

"About what you've done,"

"She wouldn't want to hear," he said, his voice factual.

"She might," Gibbs said, shrugging.

Tony looked back up at Gibbs, eyeing him. "You talk to her?"

Gibbs sipped his coffee. "Yeah, few months ago,"

"What'd she say?"

"She thinks you've moved on," he said simply.

"What? No, I could _never_ move on," Tony sat up straighter, eyes so fervent with a deep and violet-colored love Gibbs had once known. It almost made him smile a little. He remembered those days.

"Did you tell her that?"

Tony shifted in his seat a little. "No,"

"You even talk to her at all, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked out the window for a moment, then back at Gibbs. "Not really. Wanted her to get used to being back her, pick up her life again," his finger tapped the cup absentmindedly. "She deserves a chance to start over,"

"Did you ever think she might want you there beside her for it?"

Tony sighed and shook his head. "I don't know anymore, Boss. She just… Wait, what about Rule Twelve?"

"Tony, I made that rule a long time ago," he said, his eyes drifting just a little, voice scarred with regrets of years so past.

"Jenny," Tony said knowingly.

Gibbs looked down for a moment and didn't answer. "You still love her?"

Tony looked at Gibbs for a long moment. He writes with his eyes the poetry of a tear-stained past. "More than anything in this world,"

"Okay then," Gibbs said, leaning back in his chair once more, taking another sip of his Jamacain blend coffee, no sugar, no cream.

"So what do I do?"

"You can start with showing her,"

* * *

He stood on the street, cold and wet with rain that had just ended. They had finished the case an hour ago and Gibbs sent them home mercifully, allowing them to finish their paperwork the following day.

He had been thinking all day about what Gibbs had said about showing her, and he was right. However, none of his old standbys—chocolates, jewelry, lingerie, roses, an expensive dinner for two—seemed to suit him anymore, much less the woman he was trying to "woo". And so now he stood on the sidewalk, looking through all the shops, looking for something that might possibly make her smile.

The shops were beginning to close, leaving only a few open. Despite the bright lights in the display windows and the creative marketing for toasters, nothing seemed right. Ziva hated roses—they were too cliché, she said. She wore almost no jewelry, excepting the Star if David necklace that hung upon her neck. She didn't understand the sentiment of chocolate. She'd smack him if he dared give her any lingeries—and besides… he knew that wasn't who he was. Not anymore. Because of her. An expensive dinner for two seemed over done. He didn't mind the complicated process of figuring this all out, but he did wish it was simpler.

* * *

The sky was an indigo, one that reminded her of missions in exotic dreamworlds, danger haunting, echoing every footstep. Those days of the past. Today she knew that soon, the indigo would be relieved by a watercolor palette of peaches and strawberries, sweet with the soothing light of dawn.

That morning when her alarm clock rang, Ziva sat up in bed and turned herself so she was sitting on the edge, looking out the window, gazing at these skies with a quickening heart, unsure of what it was the day would bring, but finally sure that it wouldn't bring death as close as it had in the past. It was something she had been learning to be thankful for after so many years of balancing on the edge of a knife, hoping not to sway to the depths.

Her run didn't help her excited heart as the sky lit up in a song. It wasn't accompanied by a sinking feeling in her gut, or the worry of being killed today, or the quiet premonition of danger. It was the intrigue of new days. It was one she had missed.

It was walking into the squadroom that morning that grabbed her attention, yet only increased the rate of her beating pulmonary vessels. It was the sight of her desk, familiar and comfortable. Not the desk itself, but the wonder upon it. She neared it and looked around. No one was here, not at the early hour she had arrived at.

It was a slender glass vase with a single Lily of the Valley inside. Ziva touched it gently, turning a moment later to see Tony walking in from the elevator, two coffee cups in hand. He smiled genuinely and held out one to her.

"Tea?" he offered.

She took it and eyed him a little. "Sure," he smiled at her and leaned up next to her against her desk. "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" he said, feigning innocence as he took a sip of his coffee.

She cocked her head. "Tony,"

He shrugged but his eyes were soft. "Yeah, I did,"

"Why?"

"You deserved it,"

"I deserve a flower?" she said skeptically.

"It's your favorite flower, and your desk could use the touch," _Though you give it all the beauty it needs._

"And how would you know it's my favorite flower?" she said, her voice now quiet.

"I'm very observant," he said. For a long minute, they sat there, just staring at one another, Tony smiling softly and Ziva… almost.

**

* * *

**

I hope that makes you smile a little, because it makes me smile for sure. It's the little gestures, the sweet little hopes strung along that help. A flower may be a flower, but Ziva knows it's more. This is a good way to start off chapter 40, no?


	41. And I Know

**A/N: Hey guys. Loved the positive response on the last chapter—thanks so much!**

**Here's today's chapter. I love the beginning a lot—I think it's a sweet scene, if I do say so myself. But the end? Oh, this is where it gets exciting. We'll hope back on for some action and investigation, of course endowed with a proper amount of Tiva, seeing as it is a Tiva-fic.**

**So yep.**

**Stoked for Tuesday's episode! Looks like it'll be awesome.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A few days passed and with each day, Tony tried a little to get her back, grabbing an extra candy bar from the vending machine or fixing her stapler, hoping the small gesutes would help to make her see. But despite his efforts, she still seemed slightly distant, not completely there. She would look at him and stare at him for a moment, eyes different than usual, then look away almost sadly, as if resigning herself to hopelessness.

Today, the team was finishing more paperwork from another case that had to be re-reviewed, much to Gibbs' dismay. They were just finishing when Tony grabbed his things and began to walk out, finished with his work.

"Hot date?" Ziva asked as he walked by, not looking at him.

"No, not quite," Tony stopped. He thought for a moment. "You should come and see,"

"I do not know, Tony, I--"

"Go, Ziva," Gibbs said from his desk, not looking at her, but continuing his gaze at the files before him.

"Gibbs, I--"

"Go," he insisted.

"Alright, alright," Ziva said, gathering her things quickly.

"Follow me," Tony said when they got to the parking lot. She followed him in her car out of the downtown area, confused, to a park near his home. She parked near him and jogged to catch up with him.

"What are we doing here?"

Tony gestured to the boys playing basketball at the courts twenty yards away. "Basketball practice,"

"Basketball practice?" Ziva repeated.

"Hey guys!" Tony called out to the team. They ran to meet him.

"Coach!" one called.

"Coach?" Ziva asked.

Tony shrugged with a smile, but didn't answer her. "You guys ready to practice? Okay, each of you, take a free throw then I want one lap around the court and then get in back of the line,"

Practice went as so, Ziva sitting on the shade of sidelines, watching in wonder at the man who was once a boy leading the team in practice, surprisingly well.

"Okay, Jared, switch out with Cody," Tony instructed.

Jared did as so, taking a seat near Ziva. He looked at her curiously and then held out his hand confidently. "I'm Jared,"

Ziva took it with a smile. "Ziva,"

"You're _Ziva_?" Jared repeated, a confused look running through his too-solemn eyes.

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"You're Tony's partner?"

"Yes, I am,"

"I thought you were dead,"

"Everyone did," she said quietly.

"Even Tony,"

"Yes, even Tony," she confirmed, looking over at the team's coach, grinning as he congratulated one of the boys.

"He was depressed for a long time, I think," Jared said thoughtfully.

"Was he?" she said softly.

Jared nodded. "He really missed you. I think he thought it was his fault,"

"It wasn't,"

"You should tell him. He said you guys used to be really tight,"

"We were," she replied, a faraway look in her eyes.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, looking down for a moment.

"He said he thought you'd be proud of him,"

"Why?" she looked at him.

"Because he was doing something with his life,"

Ziva looked over at Tony who was high-fiving one of the boys, a huge smile upon his face, eyes shining. "How do you think he's been doing since he started coaching you guys?" she asked.

"Better,"

"Only better?"

"Well, you weren't there," Jared said, and for a moment, they were silent. It was then that Tony called him back out to the game, and Ziva was left to her thoughts as she watched the man she had fallen in love with.

The sky had grown soft with time, as had her heart. Everything she wrote in that letter, she meant. NCIS changed her. The team changed her.

He changed her. He inspired her to live, to move on from her black memories and find a new life. She had hoped that perhaps, the rest of it might be spent with him. Ziva wasn't sure what kept her from telling him. She wasn't afraid of commitment as he had been. She wasn't afraid of Gibbs and his rules or Vance's likely dismay. She wasn't afraid of her father or Mossad…

It was the fear that someday, that the moment she took that step, he would be gone.

* * *

An hour later, practice was over and the team went home, leaving Ziva and the coach alone at the park, basking in what was left of the light. They walked silently, somehow making their way to the swings. They each sat on one, side by side, and didn't swing at all. They merely sat there, lost in their own little worlds.

"I'm glad you're back," Tony said finally, staring out straight in front of him, eyes serious. He hesitated. "Are you?"

"I am glad to be here," she answered slowly.

"But?" Tony prompeted. Ziva almost felt the urge to laugh. He was always able to tell. No matter how hard she tried, he was always able to see through her.

"It is not the same,"

"I know," he said quietly, though his stoic expression didn't move. She looked away, not seeing the gaze in his eyes that followed her sweet face.

* * *

Ziva couldn't sleep. Usually she could fall asleep easily in her Silver Springs apartment, quiet and still surrounding her. Tonight, despite the tiredness she felt and the silent darkness about, she couldn't. Finally in a frustrated sigh, she got up out of bed and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and began to walk. The cold air of DC echoed her loneliness. The crossed her arms tightly and continued to walk, shutting out the memories that begged to come in.

The neon lights of a 24/7 convenience store shone from across the street. She walked in mindlessly, hoping only to escape the cold that she had grown a little more sensitive to in the past year.

For a few minutes she roamed the aisles without thought, finally coming across a long row of magazines and newspapers. She scanned the covers, finding the people inside to be shallow and naive. Most seemed to be several months old, but she wasn't surprised—this place was notoroiously run down and out of place.

A newspaper caught her eye and she nearly jumped back in shock. She picked it up and thumbed the familiar face on the front. It was

"Tony?" she whispered to herself, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"_Making History, Saving History"_ the block print read. Above was a half-age size photo of Tony, face marked with soot as he stood with Gibbs and what appeared to be Fornell, talking behind a curtain of bright yellow of what could only be flames. She grabbed the paper and ran to the cashier.

"How much for this?"

The cashier eyed it. "It's old, lady. You can have it for ten cents,"

Ziva dug inside the pocket of her jeans, overjoyed to find a dime. She payed for the paper and walked outside, slipping down the side of the wall. She opened the paper and began to read.

Ziva shook her head as an angry tear slipped down her cheek.

Ziva stood outside his apartment undecidedly. She had been pacing for several minutes, unsure of whether to confront him about the things she read in the article.

_It has been confirmed that the "savior" is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or NCIS. He humbly shared this only comment: "I did what I had to do." NCIS declined to comment, as did the other investigators at the scene…_

"_I did what I had to do."_ Familiar words.

Humble? Not the word anyone had ever used to describe Tony. Ziva thought back to earlier that day at the game, back to the last months. The article was right.

He had grown to be… like Gibbs.

Suddenly the door opened and it took all of her strength not to jump back. "Ziva?" Tony said. He was dressed in sweats and an old OSU t-shirt. He didn't look like he had been sleeping, despite the tired look in his eyes.

"Hi," Ziva said after a moment.

"Hey… what are you doing here?"

Ziva gave him an apologetic half-smile and turned to leave. "Sorry, I should be going,"

"No, don't," he said, stepping out of the threshold part-way. "Not yet," he said, his voice now softer. He glanced at the newspaper in her hands that she had been wringing to a pulp. "What's that?"

Ziva shrugged and reluctantly handed it to him. "I just found it," she admitted, suddenly feeling as if she was invading his privacy.

He uncurled it and looked at the front page article. "Oh," was all he said.

"I uh… You didn't mention it," Ziva finally said.

"No, I didn't," he said. He remembered Morocco. She didn't tell him about that either. She looked at him undecidedly and for a moment, they shared a gaze, his eyes serious. Once again, she began to walk away.

It was then that his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his cell phone and Ziva began to walk away.

"Good morning, Special Agent DiNozzo," a voice sounded over the speaker, familiar and creepy, the kind that made chills run up and down one's spine, though disguised with some sort of device.

Tony covered the speaker with his hand. "Zee-vah!" he called quietly and she turned around, brow furrowed. He motioned toward the phone. She met up with him as he answered. "Yeah?"

"Miss me?"

* * *

**Cliffhanger. :) Who do you think it is? Don't forget to review!**


	42. And Little Do You Know

**A/N: Hey everyone.**

**Here's today's chapter. Um… not much to say about it actually, but I like it a lot.**

**I finished the ending for this story a few days ago, I believe. It's great; I think you all will really like it. I might rewrite it though, for the third time, LOL. But we have a little while more before I post it, so no worries.**

**Oh, and by the way, you all should check out **_**Oh my word, they shiver so sweetly**_** by my fabulous friend, Bravo my lady Grace—it's a series of little oneshots, beautiful and intrinsic, and she was so generous as to allow me to contribute. So go check it out. It's really wonderful.**

**Alright. Enjoy your chapter, my dear friends!**

* * *

"No, I'm pretty sure I don't," he answered tentatively, turning the phone on speaker so Ziva could hear. He took his hand and placed it loosely around Ziva's waist, pulling her gently inside, ignoring the feeling of "rightness" that it gave him.

Little did he know that she was doing the same.

He closed the door. "Well, I suppose that's understandable," the voice replied, chuckling.

"And who is it exactly that I'm not missing?" Tony asked.

"What, you don't recognize my voice?" the voice laughed.

Tony smirked. "Not really," he admitted sarcastically. Ziva smiled inwardly. This was so typical of him.

"I'll try not to be offended," the voice said, obviously smiling. Part of Tony was glad that he couldn't see the smile. "Is Officer David there with you?"

A gong pounded in force against Tony's heart as he glanced at Ziva, his hand flinching as he resisted the urge to take her hand or wrap his arm around her, bringing her close to him.

Little did he know that she wished he would.

"Why?" Tony asked defensively.

"Mmm, and so she is," the voice confirmed. "Can I speak to her?"

Ziva's hand reached out for the phone, but Tony backed away. "No, you can't,"

"Then perhaps I should come to you,"

The line went dead.

* * *

Tony called Gibbs the second the voice had hung up. He, of course, insisted on protection for the both of them, arriving at the apartment in minutes, full protection detail included.

"He will win if we go and hide," Ziva said.

"He'll also win if we die!" Tony replied.

"We are fine on our own," she insisted.

_She said "we",_ Tony thought. He liked the sound of that. "Clearly," he said sarcastically.

"And I do not think we should rule out a woman," Ziva continued.

"And why's that?"

"If you have to ask, DiNozzo…" Gibbs began.

Tony put up a hand. "I know, I know,"

"Your list of enemies is a long one," Ziva pointed out.

"Yours isn't exactly short either. Or perhaps it is, seeing as they're all _dead_," he spurt back.

Ziva gave him a smirk. "Well obviously it is someone we both know,"

"Unless he's using Tony to get to you," Gibbs said.

"Or it's the other way around," Tony added. Ziva scoffed a little, but smiled. "What?"

"Nothing, Tony," Ziva replied, smiling a little. She turned to Gibbs once more. "I refuse protection detail, Gibbs. I am of better use in the field than being cooped up in a safehouse--"

"No, Ziva, you're not going out," Tony said.

"And why not?" she asked, turning around, finding herself only inches away from him.

"Is it not blatantly obvious? You could be killed!"

"It is not as if he has made an attempt on my life. You are the one whose car was bombed," Ziva pointed out.

Tony stared at her for a moment, eyes confused. "Who told you about that?" his voice was soft.

Ziva opened her mouth and closed it again, not sure of what to say.

"I did," Gibbs spoke up. "Now if you two are finished, we're going back to headquarters. _All_ of us. You're at least of some use there," he said, walking away, leaving the pair with no choice to but to follow, each sighing silently.

* * *

As Tony and Ziva made their way through the Naval Yard, neither could ignore the eyes they felt upon their backs, given by other agents.

Finally, Tony stood up from his desk to find the entire squadroom stopped in bewildered stares. "What?" he cried, a crazy half-grin on his face. "You scared of us or something?" Tony eyed a probie and smiled, walking over to him. He adjusted the agent's tie. "Wanna tell me what's going on, _probie_?"

"Tony," Ziva said in a low, warning voice.

"Nothing," the probie said unconvincingly.

"Come on, that's the best you've got?"

The agent shrugged but finally gave into the steely stare DiNozzo had been giving him, rivaling even Gibbs'. "You seem to," he coughed. "Have a lot of people after you. Like, both of you," he admitted, shaking beneath the authoritative hand that rested on his shoulder.

"Tony," Ziva repeated.

He finally looked over at her, having difficulty ignoring the _thump-thump_ his heart gave whenever his eyes met hers. "Yeah?"

"Vance wants to see us,"

"Crap," he muttered.

* * *

"Agent DiNozzo, thank you for joining the party," Vance said from behind his desk, papers shuffling through his hands, Gibbs standing in front of him, not moving a muscle. Ziva came from behind Tony and shut the door before taking her place beside him, a little closer than necessary, reminding him of a time so long ago. Of when Jenny died, and Vance came at him with every strike her could find. And she stood behind him, the whole time, her presence seeming to be the one thing tying him to the ground.

"Sure," he answered, a sarcastic grin shining on his face.

"You two sure seem to make a lot of enemies," Vance began, ignoring Tony's defiant attitude.

"It means we're doing our job," Tony defended in a low, serious voice. Ziva looked to him and held back the smile of pride that threatened to come through.

"You're putting a lot of people at risk,"

"And you think we're doing this on purpose?" he laughed.

"I think you should be careful,"

"Why do you think we're here, under protective custody?" Tony challenged.

"And I think you should pursue any and all leads. Gotta catch this one," Vance moved on. "But I need you to be at your best. You may be under protective custody but we don't need your childish attitude right now, understand?"

_You're just jealous_, Tony was tempted to reply. A chill ran down his spine as he was once again pierced with another memory.

"_You are jealous," Ziva said, speaking of Rivkin._

"_Am not," he insisted, not convincing even himself._

"_Are too," she replied._

He never told her otherwise.

"Yes, sir," he answered, his feet planted firmly, aiming for the highest amount of self-control he could muster.

From her place, Ziva could see the frustration running through his eyes, practically clear through the air around him, his body tense. Instinctively, she took his hand and held it gently for a moment. And strangely, a look of shock and then peace finally found their way through to him, and he visibly relaxed. Startled by the effect, she immediately pulled her hand back to herself. She glanced to Vance who had seemed to miss the exchange, now involved in a stare down with Gibbs.

Finally, their silver-haired-fox turned to the pair and looked them in the eye. "No one leaves the building, got it?"

"Gibbs, I--" Ziva started.

"We already had this conversation, Officer David," Gibbs said, walking towards her and stopping in front of her before finally leaving the room.

Ziva shook her head a little. Tony glanced at Vance. "You're dismissed," he confirmed and they walked out in Gibbs' trail.

* * *

Tony stood across the room, leaning against the wall near the elevator, watching the woman who sat at her desk from afar. His arms had been crossed in pensiveness for quite some time, watching her, studying the way she moved about. Though it sounded more like stalking, he was merely appreciating the most important thing in his life, the thing he nearly lost. He knew just how her swayed when she swiveled in her chair, he knew just how she typed, he could even tell when she was checking her email, even when he couldn't see her screen.

He knew her better than anyone.

With each breath he took, a voice inside him screamed at him to go tell her, to gather her in his arms, to hold her tight, to whisper every word he had always wanted to say to her.

Finally he saw her stand in a huff and come strutting towards him. He looked around for a way out, a way to try and look busy, as if he wasn't watching her.

"What are you doing, Tony?" she eyed him.

"Standing,"

"And?" he shrugged and fiddled with his watch. "I can feel you watching me, Tony. You haven't moved for twenty minutes and I demand to know why,"

"I was taking a break," he tried. She could always tell.

"Yeah, right," she said, folding her arms as she stood before him.

He took a breath and stood up straighter. "Ziva, I--"

"Tony! You have _got_ to come see this!" Abby called as she walked out of the elevator.

* * *

**Don't forget to review!**


	43. And People Can Change

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! I know you all are itching for answers and resolution, and it'll come, I promise. Just bear with me for a little bit longer!**

**Today we make progress. That's all I'll say. : )**

**Also, there were some mentionings of Ziva using contractions. Now, I do know about this, and were it any other story, I wouldn't have even slipped one in, but Ziva, she's been trying to assimilate for Tony, just a little, however, I'm not going to go make her spewing them out, accompanied by correct American idioms. Just thought I'd explain.**

**Alright, enjoy your chapter! Don't forget to review!**

* * *

Abby stood before her computer, typing alongside McGee as numbers flashed before them on the plasma, Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs looking on.

"What is this, Abs?" Gibbs finally asked.

"We're tracing the number of Tony's caller," she explained.

"I thought you said you have something,"

"I do, just wait one sec…" she continued to type. "We were able to determine that the call came from a landline, not a cell phone,"

"So we can't track him?" Tony asked, hands stuffed in his back pockets.

"Doesn't mean we can't learn anything about him," Gibbs pointed out.

"Or her," McGee added.

"There's no evidence to suggest it," Tony said.

"Actually, there might be," Ducky said, walking in.

It was then the computer began to beep. "We got it!" Abby cried, and all attention returned to the screen. "It's a pay phone outside of that convenience store in Koreatown,"

"The one owned by that guy who was working as a South Korean operative?" McGee said.

"Same one. Different owner, of course," Abby said.

"Small world," Tony mused.

"Small town," Ziva agreed.

"Not really," McGee tried correcting, but they weren't listening.

"So where's this leave us?"

"We still have nothing," Tony said.

"South Korean operatives isn't nothing," Abby said, echoing a conversation she had with Gibbs years before.

"Abby," Tony said warningly.

"Sorry, Tony. We'll be lucky if we can get her prints off of it, but there's just not a lot we can do,"

"Her?" he repeated, folding his arms.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Ducky spoke up once more. "I took the liberty of reading the transcript, and I must say, it is indicative of a woman,"

"Or a some sadistic serial killer,"

"We've got plenty of those," McGee said, coming out from behind the desk to the group, a stack of files in his arms. "Here," he said, handing them to Tony with a grin.

"Thanks, Probie," Tony said, groaning as he took the heavy stack into his arms, not realizing the weight before he did so. Ziva and McGee exchanged an amused look. "These files contain every serial killer, ever bank robber, every scorned woman Tony has ever arrested since Ziva joined the team,"

"Not a lot for an agent of nine years," Ducky commented.

"Those are just from the last 6 months," McGee said, smiling. Tony gave him a small glare.

"Ah," Ducky said knowingly.

"Hey, I just do my job," Tony said in defense.

"And you happen to do it very well," Ziva spoke up. "You just tend to make a lot of enemies in the process,"

"Hm," he said with a grin, eyeing her, for the first time realizing just how close their faces had gotten.

They didn't notice the smiles exchanged by the other team members, the knowing glances, the agreeing nods that were passed. They were in their own world where the sunshine always came back, where porcelain hearts never broke.

"Um…" Abby finally spoke up. Tony and Ziva finally realized their proximity and practically leaped across the room, flying like shrapnel. Abby grinned and moved on. "Here's the address," she said, handing a slip of paper to Gibbs who led the team out of the room.

"Thanks, Abs!" he called.

"Anytime!" she answered back.

* * *

"Did you see anyone out here on the phone at 3:45 this morning?" McGee asked the cashier at the convenience store.

"We may be 24/7, but I'm not," the cashier replied numbly, leaning on the counter, eyes drooping.

"Did you see anything at all?" Gibbs asked.

The cashier sighed and stood up. "I may have seen something. There was this guy,"

"A guy?"

"Came in. Bought a soda and went outside. I could hear him talking. I couldn't fall asleep after that.

"What time was this?"

"No idea," he replied.

"Can you describe him?"

"Didn't get a good look at him. Like I said, I was half asleep. He was kinda short. Wearing some black, baggy clothes and a hat,"

"Could it have been a woman?" McGee avoided Gibbs' glare which was clearly boring through him.

"I guess," he said. "Look, it's like I said. I barely noticed a thing—I go on autopilot or whatever it is they call it at night. It just so happens I got the worst possible shift. What'd he do anyway?"

Gibbs took a step forward and stared down at him. "He threatened my people,"

* * *

"Who would want to kill both Tony and Ziva?" Palmer mused to Ducky as they were working in autopsy. Palmer was sewing up one of their guests while Ducky was filling out some paperwork.

"Certainly someone they both knew," Ducky replied.

"Hey, you think Jeanne Benoit coulda done it?"

"I haven not heard that name in some time," Palmer and Ducky looked over to the doors which had open and shut without their knowledge, Ziva standing closeby, hands clasped as she eyed Palmer.

"None of us have, my dear, which, Mr. Palmer, is exactly why it is not likely she is the culprit, nor is it a memory any of us wish to conjure up," Ducky said. "Aside from the fact that she is currently in Gabon, Africa,"

"Sorry Doctor… Ziva," Palmer replied sheepishly. His eyes flitted to either one uncomfortable, and promptly left the room.

Ziva sighed as the doors closed. "He is right, you know. It could very well have been Jeanne," her voice was factual, honest, and yet, she could tell it wouldn't be long before Ducky saw right through it. "We do not know if she is still in Gabon. She could have taken a flight and--"

"Is that what you think, or is that what you fear?" Ducky asked, standing. _Of course_.

"It is a likely outcome, Ducky. He ruined her life,"

"That's a bit harsh to say, considering you are his partner and all,"

"Well, I am not one to look away from the truth,"

"Are you entirely positive about that, Ziva?"

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you saw the paper,"

She looked down, arms now folded as she paced a little. "I did,"

"And?"

"He never told me," she confessed, sounding defeated.

"I'm sure he had his reasons,"

"He was a hero, Ducky. He should have been going on about this for months!"

"A lot changes in a year," Ducky said. Her eyes flitted to him, meeting his own, wise with years, wise with war, wise with death. "He changed, you know,"

"That is what everyone keeps saying,"

"What do you think?"

She shrugged and her hard expression softened. "They might be right about that,"

"So why is this so difficult?" she asked finally.

"Why is what difficult, my dear?"

"Being here again, being back, being… with him,"

"Perhaps you should ask Tony,"

"I have tried. He avoids the question every time. I have been trying for months, Ducky. All I ask is that things at least go back to the way they were,"

"Are you happy with how they were?"

"Things were fine before I left. We joked and we debated and… I do not know, it was just fine, and I do not understand why things have to change,"

"You were gone for months, Ziva. Everyone thought you were dead! Tony had to learn to live a life without you,"

"Well I am sure it was not difficult," she said, glancing away for a moment.

"You heard about his PSTD?"

"Yes,"

"Maybe it shows that 'fine' isn't enough for him anymore,"

"Well I do not know what else to do," she looked at him and he neared her, encasing her in a hug, no words, no explanations. He simply held her in his arms, feeling her relax into him, finally returning it. A few moments later, he let her go and looked her in the eyes, glassy with tears that did not fall. She gave him a weak half smile and turned to walk away.

As the doors opened, she stopped and looked back at him. "I suppose people _can_ change in a year," And she spoke of him. And she spoke of herself. And she spoke of the past. And she spoke of no future.

* * *

As Ziva walked into the squadroom, now composed and calmed, she heard the clanking and thudding of what could only be platform boots.

"Ziva!" Abby called from behind, McGee following.

"Abby, is something wrong?" Ziva asked when Abby caught up to her, culminating in the bullpen, Gibbs and Tony looking on in confusion.

"Um, other than someone kill you and Tony? Yeah, nothing wrong at all,"

"Okay, then, good," Ziva said leaning up against her desk, eyeing Abby, who was now jumping up and down.

"What is it, Abs?" Gibbs finally asked.

"Just say it, Abby," McGee said, nudging her.

"Do you know who's after us?" Tony prodded.

"We just might."

* * *

**Yep. Another cliffhanger. That's how I roll, people… I have never said that before. So, we are nearing the end of our story, I'm sad to say, but it's been a fantastic ride. Just a couple more chapters left, perhaps 3. Do you want shorter chapters and thereby causing the story to last longer, or longer chapters, causing the story to end sooner? Let me know in your review!**


	44. And It Was for Her

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's today's chapter. Longer chapters won by a landslide—thanks for your input! Today's chapter is one of answers. I don't have a lot to say about it, except I loved the end scene.**

**New episode tonight! I'm so thrilled! I think it's going to be really fabulous.**

**Alright, here you go. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Tony and Ziva haven't been working here for the same amount of time, so that narrows down our search to cases to a total of 6 years. Then, we take out the four months that Tony was an agent afloat and Ziva was in Israel. And from there, we take out all the cases from the time Ziva left until the time she came back. That leaves us with about 5 years of cases,"

"We figured out that four hours ago," Gibbs said.

"I know, that, Gibbs, just hold on, okay?"

"I ran a snooper through both Tony and Ziva's files, looking for common, uh… Enemies," Tony and Ziva exchanged a look. "I then went through the files, looking for the most aggressive ones. I complied a list from there and then began checking alibis,"

"Wow, that is a _long_list," Ziva said, looking at the glance.

"You guys have a lot of enemies," McGee explained.

"Hm," Ziva said, eyeing him with a wicked smile.

"What'd you come up with, McSnoopy?" Tony asked, obviously tired of the cracks.

"Jessica Stalker," McGee said, handing Tony a file.

"I remember her," he said, looking through it. He shuddered.

"You wouldn't stop making comments about her name," Abby remembered, smiling.

"Well I thought it was kind of ironic—she _was_ a murder suspect, and the victim had be, what was that? Oh, _stalked_? That's right,"

"She hates you because you made fun of her name?" Gibbs said skeptically.

"Because he arrested her," Ziva explained.

"Where was I during this?" Gibbs asked, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Mexico," McGee replied.

"Ah," he said, taking the offered file from Tony.

"The victim was a petty officer," Gibbs read.

"That's right," McGee said. "Stabbed to death, and then some,"

"He had been stalked for six months by Stalker," Abby said.

Tony snorted. Ziva hit him on the arm, but looked at him sweetly over her shoulder. He smiled to himself for a moment. "We had witnesses placing her at the house," he said more seriously now.

"Nosy neighbors," McGee added.

"That's it?" Gibbs asked, look up.

"No, her DNA was on the murder weapon," Ziva said. "She was obsessed with the petty officer, so if she couldn't have him, no one could,"

"She didn't have an alibi," McGee said.

"Well she does now," Gibbs said, continuing to read through the file. "She's been in prison for two years,"

"So why is this relevant? It's not like she could've made those calls," Tony said.

"It's not Stalker I'm talking about—it's her fiancé, Mark Waller,"

"Always gave me the creeps," Tony remembered.

"You were terrified of him!" Ziva corrected.

"No, I was just aware of his… presence

"After she was arrested," McGee moved on, "he filed twenty formal complaints toward Tony and Ziva. When nothing came of it a month later, he started making threats,"

Gibbs moved over to Tony and Ziva who were standing near the wall, side by side. "Why didn't you come to me?" he asked in a low voice.

"We are threatened every day, Gibbs. It is apart of the job. It was nothing I could not handle," Ziva said.

Gibbs sighed and looked to Tony. "Same goes for me, Boss," In that moment, Gibbs raised his hands, and each party was blessed with a well-deserved headslap. "Thank you, Boss," Tony said, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. Ziva, McGee, and Abby shared a grin as Abby went began to speak.

"Waller's lived in DC for two years. He moved her a month after Stalker was arrested,"

"Fits the timeline," McGee said.

"Record?" Gibbs prompted.

"He's been arrested twice for assault, but was never charged," Abby replied.

"I talked to the victims, both who had minor injuries. They said they knew he had a hard life,"

"Sob story could get you anywhere," Gibbs commented.

"Including prison, if we catch him," Ziva said.

"_When_ we catch him," Tony said, looking down at her, eyes sincere. Curiosity flashed through her own expression, brow furrowing for a second that only Tony could see.

"We need more," Gibbs said, handing the file to McGee as he walked back around the desk.

"Had motive," Abby said.

"Had no alibi," McGee added.

"But did he have the skill?" a voice asked from the doorway.

"Director Vance," Abby said, slightly startled. "Your very, um, quiet," she glanced around and grabbed her Caf-Pow to occupy herself.

"I heard it all. But Gibbs is right. We need more," he said, approaching the group.

"He had the supplies," McGee said. He typed furiously and several receipts appeared on the screen. "Everything he needed to build the bomb that blew up Tony's car, all bought within four hours of the bombing. All the brands match the products we found in the device," Vance narrowed his eyes to the screen. He wanted more proof; that much was obvious. "He also lives a block from the convenience store where the call was placed,"

"Opportunity," Ziva said.

Vance looked around the room. "Bring him in," he finally said.

"If he refuses?" McGee's brow rose.

"Arrest him on suspicion of attempted murder and threatening federal agents,"

"Good," Gibbs murmured, taking a look back at the plasma. "Good," he began to stride out of the room. "McGee with me,"

"Boss, what about us?" Tony called.

Gibbs stopped at the door and turned around, McGee still standing at Abby's desk. "Can't risk it,"

Tony made his way over to Gibbs, staring him closely in the eye. "I need to do this, Gibbs," he said in a low voice. "Can't let her die. Not again," his words were a whisper now, eyes serious.

"She needs you alive," Gibbs said quietly into Tony's ear, then stepped back to look at him. "You're staying here. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Tony replied hesitantly.

"Good," Gibbs said, motioning to McGee to follow him down the hall. "And don't call me 'sir!'" he called.

* * *

Waller sat in the interrogation room silently, his hands resting on the table, eyes fixed upon them. He didn't move, still as a statue in the frost of winter.

Gibbs walked into the room quietly and sat down in front of Waller, Tony, Ziva, and McGee in Observation.

"Do you know what you're here?" Gibbs asked after a moment.

"Nope," Waller replied, never looking up at Gibbs.

"Any guesses?"

"You finally taking my advice?" he asked, peeking up.

"What advice, Mark?" Gibbs asked, feigning naivety.

"Jessica's innocent. She didn't kill that guy,"

"His name was Petty Officer Roy Gilmore,"

"Fine, whatever. Listen, she didn't do it, okay?" Waller insisted, moving for the first time.

"You got proof, Waller?"

"I… I just know she didn't, sir. She didn't kill him,"

"She stalked him," Gibbs said. "Musta made you feel uncomfortable, knowing your fiancée was spending all her time and energy on him,"

"I don't care about that, Agent Gibbs," Gibbs stared him in the eye, searching. "She may have stalked him, and that was wrong, but she didn't kill him,"

"She was convicted by the grand jury, Waller. Her DNA was on the murder weapon. We had witness placing her at his house at the time that he was stabbed to death!"

"Doesn't matter. There's no way she killed him"

"Why will he not admit it? All of the evidence is pointing to her," Ziva said to Tony as they watched from behind the window.

Tony shrugged, not able to look her in the eye. He knew why.

"Jessica was innocent. Maybe not of stalking him, but she didn't kill him,"

"Well then maybe you did," Gibbs said, walking around behind Waller, resting his hands on the table as he looked down at his suspect. "You found out about him, you got mad, you killed him and you planted her evidence on the murder weapon. That got him out of her life and got her put in prison,"

"That's not what happened. She… I don't know who killed him, but Jessica could never have done something like that,"

"Well did you?"

"No, I didn't," Waller said, looking up at Gibbs, challenging him.

"Then what did you do? Did you try and kill the two agents responsible for putting her in prison? Threaten their lives?"

Waller stared straight ahead now, into his reflection. "I didn't,"

"You didn't?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

"He won't give up," Ziva said, slightly astonished.

"He can't," Tony said softly.

"And why not?" Ziva asked.

"I loved her," Waller said softly, eyes averted. Ziva glanced at Tony quickly, but he was looking away. "I did it," his words were a whisper.

"What did you do?" Gibbs prompted, sitting down once more.

"The bomb in Agent DiNozzo's car. The phone calls. I did it," he said, tears now streaming down his face.

"You did it because you loved her,"

"I would have done anything for Jessica. I know she's innocent. I know she is. We… we were gonna get married. But then your agents, they came and they took her from me,"

"You thought that you could get us to reopen the case,"

Waller nodded. "I didn't want to hurt anyone,"

"But if it came to that?"

Waller looked up at Gibbs, love in his distant eyes. "I would," he answered. "I'd give her the world,"

Gibbs sighed inwardly. "You have the right to remain silent," he began, reading Waller his Miranda rights.

"He did it because he loved her," Tony repeated, eyes still fixed upon the window.

"Even though she was guilty," Ziva said, still unable to believe the craziness of it all.

"When you love someone," Tony said. "Doesn't matter what they did or what everyone else thinks they did. You do whatever it takes,"

"Whatever it takes to do what?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked at her now. "To prove it," he said. His words lingered a moment as he walked out the room, Ziva still standing by the observation room, speechless.

**

* * *

**

Now, I know it might feel like the case was solved too quickly and easily, but it needed to be this way for the sake of the plot and our poor characters.

**If you didn't make the connection—and I hope you did—Tony's able to understand why Waller did what he did—it was because he loved Jessica, and he would believe in her and trust her no matter what, even if the evidence said otherwise, just like Tony loved Ziva through all this time, stuck with her through everything that happened, changed for her, did everything for her. Here is also where I tried to mirror Tony's view of her in the show as well. Even though all the evidence said that she was a traitor to NCIS, to the team, by keeping vital information from, so on and so forth, even when he found out that she was dead, Tony didn't care. He remembered the woman he met all those years ago, the woman who brought him espresso in the rain. He did it all for her, going against all logic, evidence, and authority to avenge her death and eventually save her life. Now that, **_**that**_** is love. And that's what I tried to show here.**

**Don't forget to review, my dear ones.**


	45. And So We Go About

**A/N: Here's today's chapter. I know it's a short one, but I enjoyed writing it. I don't have a lot to say about it, but I hope you enjoy it!****

* * *

**

"You're late, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he wrote on his notepad.

"Sorry, Boss," Gibbs looked up at him. "Right, no apologies. Sorry," Gibbs walked past him and gave him a headslap as he went. "Thank you, Boss,"

A tent had been set up to protect the crime scene, lightning striking a few miles away. "It's too dangerous to be out here," a ranger said to Gibbs.

"We've dealt with worse,"

"I'm the ranger here, this is my park. I won't let your floozies get struck by lightning on my watch. And besides that, what about compromising evidence or something?"

Gibbs looked around. "Hurry it up," he said to the team.

McGee was photographing the evidence while Ducky looked over the body. "So, Tony. I noticed you and Ziva were gone for a while,"

"We were gone for half-an-hour, McGee,"

"That's two hours on Gibbs' watch,"

"We were getting coffee,"

"It's a one-and-a-half-minute drive at four in the afternoon, Tony,"

"You would know that, wouldn't you?" McGee rolled his eyes.

"Have you talked to her yet?" Ducky joined in.

"What makes you think we need to talk?" Tony asked, not looking up from the sketch he was working on.

"Come on, really, Tony?" McGee said, but he didn't mean it harshly. He glanced over at Ziva who was speaking with the rangers several yards away.

"Ziva and I are fine, McGee,"

"Is that so?" Ducky asked, sharing a look with McGee.

"Yes, actually, it is," Tony replied. He sighed a little.

"You don't really believe that, do you," Ducky said, standing.

Tony shook his head a little, and found himself speaking softly to the doctor. "Sometimes, I get so close, and--"

"The ranger said only a few people were in the park today," Ziva announced as she reached the pair.

"Case in point," Tony murmured to Ducky who gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked towards his truck.

"Hm?" Ziva asked, looking up from her notepad.

"Nothing. Was anyone in the area?"

"Not that any of the rangers have been able to tell, and it would be hard to, but they say they have increased the number of rangers on patrol,"

"Why?"

"He said that the constant presence of NCIS has put the entire community on edge," she grinned.

Tony chuckled. "If I were in the Navy, I would be sure to stay away from this place," he agreed. "We've had more dead petty officers here than anywhere else,"

It was then he felt the sting of a headslap. "You think it's funny, DiNozzo?"

"No Boss, I was just appreciating the irony,"

"You continue like that and I'll make sure you're appreciating more than irony,"

"Yes, Boss," Tony said, Ziva smirking.

"You are just full of mistakes today, aren't you?" she laughed.

"Mistakes?" he asked, his heart dropping. Earlier, in the rain, he almost kissed her. Did she think…

"But that is what I love about you," she chuckled casually as she walked away to collect evidence.

"Oh really?" he teased, grinning.

_Thump-thump-thump._

* * *

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock_. The clock on the wall had been singing the same song for the past two hours as Tony lay on his couch, staring at the ceiling. His movie had ended long ago, the screen now in hibernation as a small "DVD" icon bounced within.

His foot tapped the air in synch with the clock, an anxious swell inside him. Tony wasn't sure how much longer he could take this.

Suddenly, finding a well of will within, he stood up, found some shoes and his coat, and got in the car.

* * *

**What do you think will happen next?**

**Don't forget to review!**


	46. And Even Now

**A/N: Okay. You love me, right? Then go to YouTube and find "Look After You" by The Fray and put it on while you listen to this song. The rest of my A/N is at the end of the chapter. Just do it, really. It will make your reading experience soooo much more worthwhile, I promise. Read it at an average pace and I promise, it will make it fabulous.**

* * *

The rain danced ever so sweetly upon the window pane of her apartment, _trickle-trickle-trickle._ Ziva had been sitting on her couch for the last hour, attempting to finish the last thirty pages of her book, but she had hardly passed the first page, becoming distracted with every other word. No training can discipline the heart.

Sighing with a sleepy fog, she trudged over to her kitchen, intending to make a cup of tea. She boiled the water and began to steep her tea. She picked it up and started towards the couch once more when she heard a knock on the door.

Her brow narrowed as she opened the door with her free hand. "Tony," she said, surprised.

He was leaning against the wall with his hand, other resting on his hip as he stared out at the ground, but stood up straight when he saw her. "Hey," he said quietly with a smile. "Sorry to wake you,"

"I was not asleep," Ziva said gently, glancing down at her pajama shorts and t-shirt.

"Good," he replied, smiling.

"Would you like to come in?" Ziva asked after an awkward moment.

"Sure," he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. "So, you often stay up all hours of the night reading?" he asked lightly.

"Sometimes," she replied with a dry smile.

"Tea?" he nodded toward the cup in her hand.

"Yes,"

"Good, tea--tea's good…" he said, looking around at her apartment nervously.

"Is there something I can help you with, Tony?" Ziva finally asked.

"No, no, I'm good… Okay actually yes. I have a question for you,"

She raised her brow in expectation. "Yes?"

"I love you," he said.

Ziva nearly stepped back in surprise. "That is not a question,"

"And I was wondering if you still loved me too," he continued.

"Tony--" Ziva started, eyes so soft.

"One year ago, you disappeared. You just—you left, and you were gone. My partner, my best friend—Ziva, the woman I loved more than anything in the world was just _gone_," he said. "And they said you were dead—that there was no way a person could lose that much blood and survive. They told me to move on, to get it together,"

"And?" she prompted quietly.

"I couldn't," he replied honestly, looking her straight in the eye. "It nearly killed me to think that my partner was murdered because of how selfish I was, because of how lazy I was. And it nearly killed me to think that there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I gave up. Ha, you should have seen my apartment—it was covered in take-out boxes and soda cans and trash and, well, that's aside from the point," Ziva gave him a small half-smile. "And then, I nearly died, because I couldn't live without you. There wasn't much of a reason to, to be honest. Then one day, this woman brings me a letter," Tony said, pulling a worn piece of paper, folded and pressed from time out of his pocket. "And then she tells me that you changed when you came to NCIS, when you met me. And then the letter…"

"You read it,"

Tony nodded. "I memorized it. You said that you, you wanted me to find happiness again, and purpose, and love. Ziva, I owed you my life—you risked yours for me so many times. And so I tried. I, I started running, like you did. And I coached a basketball team. I learned to play piano again, like you taught me that one summer. I learned our song,"

"I remember it," she said quietly, eyes deep and brown.

"Ziva, I read _Moby _Dick! And then it was crazy—I found myself not thinking about you. And that scared me—I didn't want to. I didn't want to move on," he took a step towards her. "I did everything you asked. I did it all for you,"

"Because I asked you to?"

He shook his head. "Like I said: I owed you my life. Ziva, you saved me. You changed me and I didn't even realize it. I did everything you asked," he repeated. "But there was just one thing I couldn't do," he said, taking another step closer to her. "I couldn't find love again. I found it once and… I just couldn't do it again. I already had," he took another step. "I loved you, Ziva. I still do—I always have. Guess it just took me a while to figure that out," Ziva wiped at her eye, finding wet love upon her cheeks. "Then, you came back. And everything changed," he chuckled. "You were alive and you were there and you were in my arms," he blinked, clearing the tears in his own eyes now. "I dunno, I guess I realized that life, you know, it doesn't last forever. It can all change just like that. So what I need to know is, do you still love me, even after all this time?"

"Tony," Ziva began.

"I gave you months. I waited for months, trying to let you try and live your life again and figure out what everything meant and I didn't say a word. I wanted to, but I couldn't," he explained, drawing one step more. "If it's because of time, I can wait. I'll wait as long as you want. I've waited for six years—and nothing could be worse than believing I never had another chance. I'll wait," his green eyes vowed.

Ziva set her mug on the table behind her. "When I left, nothing… Nothing worked out the way it was supposed to. None of this was supposed to happen,"

"But it did,"

"Yes, it did. I know I should have come to you. There is no excuse for that, and I am sorry. I am so sorry, Tony, for just leaving like that, without any explanation, without telling you, without fighting for myself," she found herself spilling out the truth.

"It's okay," he replied genuinely. He was hardly inches from her now, and her heart beat quickly.

"But when I saw you walk through those doors in that warehouse, when you cut off my ropes and we ran outside—the world was in slow motion. And there was nothing else but me and--"

He cut her off, his lips meeting hers, his arm wrapping around her head gently, the other pulling her waist toward him softly. Her own hand found rest upon his chest, the other looping about his neck.

It was a sunrise, the night having passed into a glorious heaven of watercolors, the sunshine singing so, the sky awakening with the dawn. It was perfect, the world stopped and unrushed, time endless and ethereal.

A few moments later, they parted just a little, their foreheads touching still, tea forgotten upon the table.

_Our hearts sing like sunrises and cry like rainfall. We hope as we await the light of tomorrow's dawn. We weep as we see the thunder storm above us. Our hearts find us longing for the first ray and the first raindrop. Some just cannot find the words, though they are always there._

"Yes," Ziva said, oh-so-quietly. "I love you,"

"Even now?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Even now."

The end.

* * *

**A/N: So, this is the end. I know, I didn't warn you guys. I thought it best not to. I loved this chapter, and unlike some of the other chapters that have ended up being the best (aka the rescue scene) I didn't plan this out for months at a time. It just kind of happened—it was great.**

**This story has been such an experience for me. It was my longest ever with 49,773 words, 103 pages. I'm pretty amazed at how it all worked out, with a simple, sweet idea one night as I was trying to fall asleep. It's been awesome with you guys—you are all so so amazing.**

**I don't have any plans for any new stories. I do have a oneshot I might post, but we'll have to see. If you have any ideas of what I should write about, please let me know in your review and I'll definitely consider it. But right now I'm trying to get my life in order, figure out where my priorities are.**

**Please review, and tell me your favorite parts of the story. What did you like? What do you wish had turned out differently? Do you have any ideas for my next story? Please, let me know!**

**Love always,**

**Autumn Gray**


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